Throne Without Direction
by Som3on3
Summary: "You have an old soul," Benn said and Luffy wanted to laugh, that's one way to put it, falling from the heavens and chained upon the earth. Instead he only gazed at the unchanging sky before smiling, "I'm just a free spirit."
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece**

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 **General Warning: OOC**

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 **Book I:** mālum

 _Hibiscus_

 _01_

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 _A silent suffering, and intense;_  
 _Lord Byron, in "Prometheus" Stanza I_

* * *

 **I.**

Luffy just wanted to be free.

* * *

 **II.**

In this life, he grew up in the East Blue, where seas were calm and skies azure. His parents were nonexistent and it had been an elderly man (this body's grandfather) who raised him.

Garp was a warrior, a silver knight in white armour. He possessed loyal qualities and a humble heart that didn't thirst to reign. Garp was strong and respected by many of the villagers. However, it was no secret that Garp was terrible at raising a child. If Luffy had been a normal mortal, he would've rebelled and probably had no manners of any type. Which to an extent already true, since he did have a rather blunt mouth. Luffy can count the number of times the lack of filter on his mouth led to punishment or execution. The world was truly a barbaric place.

Except Luffy wasn't a mundane and Garp was far from an ordinary man. He was an awe-inspiring marine, that's what they call knights these days, who reminded Luffy of valiant crusaders galloping across the old lands. Though things were a little bit different this time, instead of being worshipped, Luffy found out that majority viewed Marines as nothing more than dogs for the World Government. Dogs who sat by the door, ready for their beck and call.

Luffy held indifference towards the marines. He neither hated them or liked them. In spite of that, he knew that 'justice' swallowed his grandfather whole. Garp was often surrounded by work and it ate a considerable amount of his time. People like Garp, once they've placed loyalty, will stick to it till the very end. Luffy knew that the man had pledged his being to the code of 'justice'. It's an inspiring ambition, although Luffy has lived too many times to know that the 'justice' could be twisted in the vilest of ways.

Luffy didn't hate Garp, he's an honest man, with a pure heart. The notion made the child smile. Despite never wanting to be alone, Luffy could never take away a man's dream. Never. Dreams are important, they signified many things; journey, perseverance, accomplishment, the list is endless.

Dreams are what makes a man and Luffy will never have the heart to take that away.

He too had dreams, once upon a time. At the beginning, they were foolish, self-centered and paved ruins to those he formerly called friends. But as life passed on, Luffy became happy by just watching, cherishing the small moments. His soul is old and he is tired.

Luffy stared at Garp as he cooked in the kitchen. Garp had his back towards him, black hair fading into a dark grey. The image made the old soul subconsciously touch his own hair, reminding himself that it was a deep obsidian colour - not white or red or brown or blond. Garp cooked like a well-oiled machine and with te Carmine shirt rolled upwards, a vast amount of battle scars were displayed - a large contrast to Luffy's own supple flesh. Tilting his head, he looked at them once more, before looking at his own arms. In the comfort of home, he closed his eyes. Just for a little bit. And traced the phantom scars.

"Alright! Food's ready!"

There was also that grin of his, wide with crescent eyes, full of energy and able to defy anything and everything.

(He's seen those smiles before, carriers that don't fear death, spirits uncontainable, having the will of-)

Luffy smiled. No, a man with free spirit shouldn't be chained and kept in a cage. It's cruel and the heart of a man with a purpose is wild, especially those who were willing to get out of the house and take action. Luffy admired that, he liked how the man pursued his freedom as well as the freedom of others.

"Hey, Gramps? I'm proud of you."

Because Garp is a man to behold.

* * *

 **III.**

As rain poured outside, they were tucked by the fireplace. A cocoon of protection enveloped them, the shelter of it all made Luffy momentarily forget about his past lives. He adored small moments like this, where he can return to childhood. Here, even if it's only for a short while, Luffy could play the part of a boy with innocence in his heart.

"Hey, Luffy."

"Hmm?"

"Are you sad that I'm not here often?"

"Of course I am," Garp tensed and slowly released the hug, "but you're a man with a free spirit Gramps, if someone tries to contain people like you then the cage will break. Doesn't matter if it's made by sweet words or seastone, if the cage is containing something bigger than it, it'll break. I'm your grandson, I'm not something that should hold you back you don't deserve that type of suffering, you have your own heart for that I'll understand. And even if you travel the seas, in the end, I know you'll come back and in the end, you know I'll be just fine. I'll always love you Gramps because we're family, no family gets left behind or forgotten."

Luffy grinned when Garp pulled him into a tighter embrace, "Tch. How'd you get so smart brat?"

"Ushishsishi didn't you know? Smartness runs in the family!"

"Ha! I guess it does brat, I guess it does."

"Luffy?"

"Yeah, Gramps?"

"I love you too."

The old soul smiled.

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 **IV.**

When Garp left, Luffy wanted to cry.

("Crying is not a weakness, it's a strength.")

Everything will be alright.

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 **V.**

The first time Sabo met him was by the market, at Grey Terminal. He was shrouded from view, waiting at the usual meeting spot to catch up with Ace. No one had noticed him so far and the only people present were the vendors setting up their stalls. Imagine his surprise when he saw a kid wearing an oversized marine shirt walking up to him. At first, he quickly dismissed the other's presence until the boy

Imagine his surprise when he saw a kid wearing an oversized marine shirt walking up to him. At first, he quickly dismissed the other's presence until the boy uttered the oddest of phrases.

"You're a bluejay," he said firmly.

Sabo blinked, "I'm sorry, what?"

The little boy with Stygian hair and clandestine eyes stared at him with a certain intensity that demanded attention. He couldn't be older than Sabo, in fact, a few years younger. Yet the air around him said otherwise and he spoke volumes just by appearance, seemingly taunting the world, telling everyone else that he knew something important that they didn't. It unnerved Sabo to see someone who looked so young withholding such foreshadowed knowledge.

Right there and then, time stopped.

Not literally but enough to make him pause.

"You're a bluejay," the boy continued,"You are lost, like a confined bird mimicking others, forgetting its own identity. Don't let that happen to you because you have great potential power. There is clarity in your mind, faithfulness in your heart and determination in your will," he smiled, a large smile that vaguely reminded him of a certain freckled boy, "You have wings, although slightly ruffled, but you have wings. All you need to do is fly bluejay."

"By the way, that's a cool hat you've got there."

The statement was enough to break Sabo out of his stupor, "Um thanks. So, uh, are you supposed to be one of those fortune teller types of people?"

"What? No. Why'd you think that?"

The older boy shrugged and twisted his nose perplexingly, "The Bluejay thing, not every day I get compared to a bird."

"Not bird."

He raised an eyebrow, "Pardon?"

And there goes that look again, the one where Sabo will surely come to hate if he sees the boy again in the future.

"Mušen," Sabo felt his brows rise. Contrary to what some people believe, the world actually _had_ many languages, that was until a law, made by some high and mighty guy, enforced everyone to speak the same language. Usually, it was only nobles or royals that retained the knowledge of lost languages. Sabo knew some, not fluently of course since he was taught by his tutor but that too had been a rare subject to dwell on.

The boy glanced at him again, "Don't forget that okay?"

Sabo stifled a nod, "Alright."

"Good!" the boy grinned, "Well I better get going or else Mamakino will get worried. Shishishishi, see you around bluejay!"

"My names Sabo!"

It wasn't until Ace arrived did Sabo realise he never got the boy's name.

* * *

 **VI.**

Makino enjoyed the market.

She understood why others don't of course, the odours from fresh fish often pierced one's nose while dirt and substances got stuck against another's feet. Despite all the cons she still enjoyed walking in Grey Terminal's market, those who resided in the Goa Kingdom tended to avoid it, hearing rumours of armless men and legless children. But not Makino, never Makino, she was enraptured by those type people, the different ones, those who held stories (pain, anger, happiness); the elderly lady by the side, with her wrinkled hands that held onto fruits, the children with their smudged faces giggling as they ran, seagulls singing and ocean rising.

Everything's alive.

When Luffy told her he wanted to go to the markets with her, she couldn't help the warmth blooming in her chest.

Luffy is a special child. She knew the moment Garp brought him into the village with his delicate skin and feathered hair, Makino fell in love with Luffy. Due Garp had to leave more often due to his duties, she made it her obligation to take care of him like a mother would a child. Makino watched as he grew older with that luminous smile of his, undimmed even as he bid farewell to his grandfather.

Though she will admit that Luffy held secrets, secrets far too heavy for a boy his age. Because there were times when she saw him gazing at both ocean and sky, with sloped shoulder and clouded eyes. It wasn't an expression that belonged to a child, she had seen it on Garp's face when he refused to talk about past battles. Trauma, Woop Slap would say as the silently listened to Garp's whimpered sleep. Trauma. It was so sad, to see a strong man crumble.

It's also sad to see childhood wrenched away.

* * *

 **VII.**

Luffy sighed, twirling the paintbrush in his hands.

Black burgeoned the right side of the canvas, creating a melancholic ambience. He hued the background and cast a soft shade of Gainsboro, which allowed the branches to strike its viewers. Unrealistic compared to the other artworks he had seen in the past because this one was painted by an unsettled mind. But it had a conceptual beauty and if Luffy were any other person he would be enraptured by it's haunting.

He looked outside and sighed again.

The boy remembered vines that dug into the lush soil, it's bark held a rich vividness a contrast to the muted grass. It's imagery only completed with a group of boys munching on golden apples, accompanied by chimed laughter and distant names. After that, everything would abruptly stop. The faces faded with every passing second as the leaves turned nothing more than a wistful ghost.

No matter how many times he wanted to know or try to forget, nothing worked. The painting was implanted into his mind and even then, it was only a haze. He tried painting, sculpting, carving, any type of media, yet it never sent the message he wanted nor trigger anything. Haunting. That was just it. No matter how many times his soul travelled, it'll never let him go.

"Luffy?"

"Ah!" he looked up and saw Makino behind the counter with a bowl of fresh fruit, he grinned, "Hiya Mamakino! What do you have there?"

"I should be asking you that," she teased, leaning forward she tried to get a better view of the painting. Immediately, Luffy felt blood rushing to his cheeks as he tried to hide the painting behind his person, "What did you make there?"

"Doodles, nothing really," he whistled trying to deflect the topic, "So what did you get? Is it food?"

Luffy grinned, thoroughly excited. Food is a luxury, those who has it sometimes takes them for granted. (A starving child amongst a famine. A sailor in a barren sea. A mother in a depression. A prisoner in a cage). He liked the tender meat beneath his teeth, nectarine sliding down his chin, the crunches of vegetables and the warmth of bread. Food is essential to life, a provider for the soul and good food is induced with sincerity and love.

Makino hummed, "I'm planning to make grilled peaches and cream, does that sound good to you?"

"Yeah, um do you need any help?" he asked.

"It's okay, why don't you go back to your painting Luffy, what is it by the way?"

"It's supposed to be a tree," he frowned, "But I can't get it perfect."

"Perfect?"

"I just," Luffy didn't know how to continue his sentence. When he had been younger, perfection appeased him out of all things. Symmetry mattered, in the eyes of all things holy, perfection should only be presented. He remembered people (brothers?) that teased him how obsessive he was by the mere subject. And then, perfection bitterly fuelled his anger and rage, the reason for his downfall. Now, after years of waking up as a human, he had been able to see the perfection in flaws. Yet there was still a part of that demanded the best. Explaining it to Makino who had always been mortal, no matter how kind she was, would never understand.

So deep in thought, he hardly saw Makino pull out another paper. He blinked, watching her mix warms colour together, she gently took his hands, a silent permission answered with a subtle nod.

His hands were now covered in a pretty array of yellows, oranges and red. She placed it on the paper, before letting go. Two handprints were bright against stark white. Makino grinned, "There. Now, what do you see Luffy?"

"Hands?"

"Try again."

"Colourful hands?"

Makino's grinned turned into a soft smile, her arms bringing him to her lap, "I see fire and a pair of wings. I see two leaves dancing in the wind. Soul mates searching for each other. And the palms of a child who will change this world. To me, this small piece of artwork is already perfect, no amount of beli or jewels could ever buy it. This is probably one of the most perfect things that I'll always hold dear to. You see Luffy, perfection is simply a matter of perception," she kissed his forehead, "What do you see?"

"A flower," in blood stained hands.

He quickly laughed, the irony making his heart clench. A flower, out of all things. The first word he blurted out was a flower, a bane in his previous existence. It happened on an afternoon, fields of flowers trekked down the hillside. A single stone at the very top, marble white and shining under the sky. It was plain and nameless, in front of it, from time to time, sat a body that Luffy remembered all too well. He continued to laugh, trying to keep the strain away, hiding the bitterness that tried to crawl up his throat. The saccharine smell of flowers invaded his senses.

He laid his head on her breast, clutching the stained clothes. She (Makino, he reminded himself) embraced him back, a warmth spreading in his chest. No words were exchanged and he didn't dare look up, to see if Makino realised his scorn. Knowing her, she probably picked up the sadness but knew not to pursue. Luffy inhaled deeply, the aroma of flowers briefly replaced with the scent of wheat and bread, and a light musk of alcohol. He sought comfort for it, hugging her tightly, hoping it'll stay forever. The old soul stuck in this youthful body cherished the moment. But of course like any other story, be it sad or happy, all things must come to an end. The blanket of arms left him, only a lingering of protection remained as soft lips touched his forehead.

"The stoves waiting for those peaches," a soft caress, "I'll come back to tell you when it's ready. Clean yourself up okay?"

"Ushishishi! Sure Mamakino!"

Luffy watched as she headed for the kitchen, the image of a pale skinned woman with straight hair flickered to dark locks akin to the sea at midnight. He grabbed the paint tube, putting different colours on his fingertips, before smashing them down hard on his original peace. An undesignated fury made it's way to his actions, and then the Gainsboro tree was no more. Only a myriad of colours sliding down the page early similar to tears, dripping down onto the floor. He frowned, tasting tears on his tongue and the wetness on his cheeks. He remembered a beautiful floral dress and a neatly wrapped bouquet, all stained with sanguine red.

That night, the peaches tasted like sand and his senses were overwhelmed by imaginary flowers.

* * *

 **VIII.**

Foosha Village knew of the feathered hair boy who left a trail of colours behind him.

Garp's brat, they'd call him, possessing that cursed smile.

He leapt above crates, jumped up any gate and swivelled from every corner. His nimble fingers caught hanging fruits, while his feet climbed higher and higher. No matter how many times they tried to stop his mischief, the boy was an unstoppable force, incredibly hard to be dealt with. Rascal, they'd murmur, shaking their head. He was such a rascal, an imp almost. Yet, despite that, elders felt youthfulness just by watching him. Children gazed at the boy with longing eyes and sailors grinned, knowing that nothing could contain this free willed child. Foosha's residents had to grudgingly admit that they enjoyed hearing his laughter chiming down the street, they were happy that his eyes shone like no other and they mesmerised the sight of him dancing with no limitations.

When white flags arrived on shore, it was a signal of destruction. The two kin would streamline the streets, leaving only dust in their wake. They'd relocate to the mountains sometimes, bringing a bloody beast on their backs, heaved upon shoulders. The whole town would stare in awe and celebrate. Men in white uniforms drinking and singing, children playing games of tag and Garp telling boisterous stories. Only some, would notice a cherubim boy snuggling against Makino's yellow skirt, expression content and lips pulled into a happy smile. And only the wise saw his marred gaze, too foreign to be stuck in such a young body. Despite it, no one uttered a word, solemn with understanding and attention focused on the party surrounding them.

As the sails opened and campfire died down, Garp left the island. While his boy soldiered on, shoulders wide and head up high. It was a leader bidding goodbye to his treasured knight, and then, everything returned to a norm. The villagers couldn't deny that the boy was their cheerful sunshine. Taking care of wounded animals, helping the elderly cross the road -although, he did break some carts in return. And often played the big, bad monster for the other children. He was a loud, rambunctious child in which everyone loved. What mattered most, was the fact that he made everyone laugh, with true joy.

So when black flags descended their village, everyone knew to protect their angel.

* * *

 **IX.**

Unknown to most, fate always played with destiny.

The minute Shanks Le Roux stepped onto the sand, he ordered his crew to search for supplies and a tavern for booze.

Meanwhile, he walked towards a large cove. Enjoying the cloudless blue skies and soft waves crashing against rocks. He rarely ever went to the East Blue, not after his former Captain died. The sea was much too calm here and his blood thirsted for adventure, to feel that exhilarating moment that made adrenaline pump. Of course, sometimes a holiday was needed and a couple of his crewmates originated from this part of the world so why not? As long as there were good booze and music, it didn't matter where he was.

From his short hours here, Foosha Village didn't seem so bad. He gained the occasional stinky eye but no one had called the Marines on them. It reminded Shanks how worlds different it could be from one island in the Four Blues to that of the Grandline. They weren't used to pirates and still had an air of naiveness. But Shanks knew not to underestimate them, his hands trailed the fresh scars, Shanks knew not to underestimate anyone.

Taking a sip of his ever-present sake, he softly hummed a familiar tune. Sand digging between his toes and under nails. Shanks didn't know how long he had been walking but by the time the sky matched his hair, he decided to go back towards his crew.

Halfway there, he met his captain. No, Shanks rubbed his eyes, it was a boy who eerily resembled his captain. Right down to the hibiscus in his hands. Legs outstretched, meeting the tides. The only things missing was a pretty blonde and that signature moustache. He wondered whatever happened to their child, and if he's been hiding in plain sight. The boy's hair tumbled across his features, hiding that glimpse of a smile.

"Say Old Man, you're not gonna stand there forever are you?"

"You got me there brat," Shanks debated whether to sit next to the boy or watch from afar, choosing the latter, he sipped the sake, "And a wise man once said that everything must come to an end.

"A wise man he is," the boy admitted, "Even the Almighty has Death waiting at his doorstep," he tilted his head upwards. It revealed round eyes weighed down with a burden, "Did She await for you when that foolish man clawed your eyes?"

Instinctively, Shanks traced his scars, the ghostly pain still present. After encountering numerous of things, Shanks couldn't imagine the possibility of how the boy knew. He looked at Shanks with an expression that he just knew. Not in a shifty, clairvoyant way but as if long ago, they had shared secrets. Nevertheless, this scar was an insult to his pride, only a handful had known. And without a doubt, if any of Roger's old crew found out, they'd laugh and knock him over.

"Yeah, it hurt. A lot," Shanks drained the last bit of sake and sat down next to him.

He sighed, "Although Death didn't come knocking at my door, ha! Nah, it's too soon for that. Too many places to see, too many people to meet. Can't let it weigh me down, ya know? Sometimes you just have to suck it up and enjoy the rest of life, that's a pirate's life for me!"

"A pirate? Pillage and plunder?"

Shanks grinned, "An adventurer."

The boy's ancient persona was quickly replaced with something younger and it made Shank's heart lighter at the sight. A childish curiosity overwhelmed the boy's expression, "Gramps don't like pirates much, said they're bad people. He wants me to be a Marine, and I respect him and love him, but honestly? I wouldn't want to be held back by people who think they can dictate the world when they are ignorant of the larger scheme. I don't understand how people can foolishly be blind and waste their time in such insignificant things."

Throwing his head back, Shanks roared, "Dahahaha! You sure don't hold back, do ya brat? Why do you think I became a pirate? It's not cause I wanna pillage and plunder—I'd rather avoid those things. No, to be a pirate is to live without rules. Freedom. I wouldn't exchange it for anything in this world," he paused, seeing the boy's disgruntled look, "Not that easy for you aye?"

"Not that easy at all."

"So what's got you so anchored?"

He shrugged, "Life."

"When life gives you lemons, you gotta make some lemonade," Shanks sang.

Laughing, he ruffled the boy's head, earning a pout. Looking up, he laid down on the sand, uncaring of its brittle texture, "I agree with you, life is a pain in the ass. Sometimes though, if you mourn too much in the past and dwell on the future, you'll forget about the present. That's how you're holding yourself back Anchor, you haven't learned how to let go. Sure we have some chains, but being free isn't just learning how to cast them off. It's also to live in a way that supports the freedom of others. Plus living in freedom is technically saying 'fuck you' to the world—er, don't tell your mother I said that."

Anchor, Shanks decided to refer him, plopped down next to him, "You're a funny guy."

"Dahahaha! I get that a lot."

"You're also a hawk."

He raised a brow, Shanks wasn't commonly referred to that animal in comparison to a familiar friend. The red devil, yes, even tomato when he was younger, but never 'hawk'. Anchor grinned, shifting so they laid side by side.

"You're a hawk," he repeated earnestly, "You represent humanity, a messenger to those who are allies and opposes you. Red tipped wings holds no bounds as you soar to the sky—unreachable and free. You're a hawk," Anchor repeated again as if trying to convince himself, "You're not a pretty white dove with tinted feathers. You're a risk taker, an achiever, nothing can hold you back because," Anchor leant forward, their nose almost touching, "You're free."

Shanks smiled, "A hawk? That doesn't sound so bad I guess. If I'm a hawk, then what're you?"

"Dunno, I do like food, though," he hummed, "Say, how do you like peaches?"

"Umm. They're sweet and okay?" Shanks was never picky with fruits, he grew up surrounded by a whole tropical variety.

The boy gave a critical eye, "Good, cause apples are way better than peaches. But Mamakino loves peaches and I love her, so it's a stalemate. And we have some baked peaches and I'm pretty sure we have apple cider somewhere."

"Hey there Anchor, are you inviting me on a date?"

Picking his nose, the boy grinned, "Ushishishi, that's if you don't mind Mamakino over our shoulder."

* * *

 **X.**

As the boy walked, all Shanks saw was a King's shadows.

* * *

 **XI.**

Luffy introduced Makino to Hawk, as he decided to call him, was like introducing earth to the wind.

Makino was maternal, set in stone like a defying mountain unable to move. She was strong, stern and her caverns offered home while her arms granted protection. Makino was fierce to defend all things she considered her treasures, like a trunk buried underneath goldens sands. When angered, her relentlessness showed no bounds, attacking whoever came her way; a furious quakes of earth and swaying of trees. The moment Shanks stepped into their cavern all motion halted. Makino's sharp gaze trailed to the tall man next to him, unimpressed while the other customers were drawn into submission, fear lingering. Her hands grabbed a nearby knife, sharp as a gemstone, continued to discreetly cut the vegetables as she stared down at his Hawk.

Shanks, whose shoulders were hunched and lazed back, a calm wind anticipating what would happen next. Because if Makino is Mother Earth, Shanks is the wind constantly present, ready to attack when needed and drift when lost. He was untouchable to all, a force to be reckoned with and something Mother Earth would truly hate. While she is rooted to the core of everything, unable to move, he is not. A spiritual child ready to make mischief and create havoc. And judging by the way Makino tightened the grip of her knife, she was not happy by the lazy smirk Shanks had plastered on his face. He saw the other customers shift their way outside as both of them walked over to the bar.

"And who might this be?"

Luffy hid a wince when he saw the disapproval before smiling, trying to lift up the atmosphere, "He's my Hawk."

"Your Hawk?"

"Shishishi, yep!"

He has laid claim, they were now in his circle of protection and Luffy will do anything to protect nakama.

Makino however, was not very happy with that as her lips were drawn upwards into a strained line, "I see. What was your name again?"

"I never said," Hawk answered effortlessly. "Please do," she insisted.

"It's- "

"CAPTAIN!"

And in came a flurry of birds to their flock leader. Sweat matted their feature, skin sticky from the sea wind and around their arms were coconuts. Cheeks ruddy from running and smiles brimming with joy.

Luffy felt a painful ache as he was reminded of similar scenes of previous lives. Luffy saw a family, brothers, sisters, lovers. No matter which life he experienced, family was foremost the most important thing. And here, it seemed that Shanks found family precious too. Said man grinned at their boisterous entrance, and with great laughter, he leapt and greeted his companions.

There was a swirl of red (such a passionate shade) hair, "Hey Anchor! Come meet my crew!"

"Everyone this is Anchor, Anchor we're the Red Hair Pirates!"

From the dark hair man who was a silent mouse, standing by a dark corner, to the man who was laughing happily like a walrus. No, they are not all birds but Luffy had a feeling that they were tighter than a flock. There was something special about them that pulled her attention.

 _Nakama._

Luffy grinned, he liked what he saw.

Makino however, was still iffy about them. Moments after, she brought out bottles of sake, banging them onto the table, distrust still tainting her pretty features. With a hand on her hip she got straight to the point, no dwaddling around as her lips were pulled into a marred frown,

"Never got yer name," her brogue Goa accent was thickening by the minute. And that was certainly not a good sign.

"Mamakino right?"

"Only Luffy calls me that," she gritted, "You can address me as Miss Makino."

"Well Miss Makino," he added teasingly,

"I'm Shanks Le Roux."

"You're a pirate."

"Yes," he answered.

"What do you want with Luffy," straight to the point, "Touch a strand of his hair and you won't be able to feel pleasure anymore."

Luffy huffed, ready to defend Shanks, "Mamakino," he whined, "I already told you, he's my Hawk just as you are my Mother."

The expression he received from her was heart wrenching, turmoil of emotions flashed through but Luffy didn't care, because Makino needed to know how important she was to him. Some things were thicker than blood and Luffy didn't care about blood, never did (lie). It was the bonds that mattered, nothing could ever overcome that. And the bond he formed with Makino was something that could never break that. Mothers are important, over the years he had many, all of them truly deserving that title. And Makino, sweet Makino with her maternal smile and kind eyes was one of them.

Luffy walked over and enveloped Makino with his wings, "I love you."

There was no need for explanation, the three simple words will do. And it was a perfect scene, joyful music in the background, and he can vaguely hear his hawk, Shanks, cheering. Everyone was so happy and to see the genuine smile on Makino's face made it better. This moment was theirs, no amount of loud noise could disrupt it.

"I only do this because I care about you Luffy."

"I know, and there's nothing wrong with that."

"Luffy?"

"Hm?"

"I love you too."

* * *

 **XII.**

Luffy has always been in love.

Though neither withholding his heart or soul, freedom fuelled the essence of why he was who he is today. Despite being his downfall, Luffy could never hate it, due to the very fact that he believed everything should be free, no shackles and chains should withhold one being's will. Like a human deprived of water, Luffy needed freedom to live, it gave hope and happiness. The feeling of wind seeping through his pores, of sunlight giving warmth and security. Birds singing above humans fishes dancing below. No current had the capability to restrain his goal. Anyone who got in the way will simply be pushed aside. To be free is Luffy's dream, more than anything else and Freedom is his flame burning inside.

Thus, his current predicament.

Legs stretched far and wide, he ran across the wooden floor, swaying side to side as the ship move. Red Force, is a beauty to behold, made from the darkest trees and mast hung above, Luffy could feel her power beneath his bones. She hummed in happiness as he ran through the hollow halls, the old pirate's tune creating a shadow of what once was. He held her hand, not minding the stares as he twirled with the invisible entity. Their hair swished from every movement while the edge of their clothes caught wind of salt. She tugged his hand, pointing at the bird's nest up ahead. With a happy grin, Luffy followed her, hands gripping the rope as he made his way. Trudging, his finger felt numb as splinters dug through, just as his mind did when the others called out to him.

How long has it been? How long has it been since he felt this free? Chains untouched and wings unbound. When he (the king in gold and the man in rags) reached the very top, a joyous laugh escaped. Luffy lifted his legs and stretched out his arms. Without an utter sound, he tilted his body and wrenched himself backwards. Perhaps, in another life, his wings would've unfurled. But here, right now, it was merely a thrush of air, head first towards the ground.

Luffy laughed through it all.

As he descended, a pair of arms caught him.

"You sure know how to scare a man anchor."

He blinked, once, twice, and then, "Let's do it again!"

Because never in all the lives had he have someone to catch his fall.

Shanks was aesthetically pleasing, more on the rugged side, but pleasing nonetheless. Luffy (no, it was the tortured soul inside of him) was strangely comfortable. The man was certainly attractive in his own right and the fact that he caught Luffy ignited a spark wilted over centuries. He was reminded of the lovers and spacious and traitors. He was reminded of the fluttering feeling in his stomach and the warm engulfing light that settles in one's chest. It was indescribable almost, and right now, Luffy felt all in once.

It seems, that, he is quite enraptured with this red haired hawk.

He was no enigma, only a steadfast slate. Somehow, Luffy found it entrancing. Simplicity at it's fullest wasn't hard to find in this world, but simplicity at it's truest, is misconception in the easiest form. Humans, people, often had layers underneath layers that so intricate and malformed you might not recognise what you finally see. Luffy was one of those. But people like Shanks, who were honest and carried a passionate will, they are resolute and untameable, having only their desires in mind. It was often to people like this did Luffy fell in love with. And despite ending in tragedy, it was in Luffy's impulsive nature did it allow his heart to beat in excitement, anticipation. Something he had so rarely felt in a while now. Underneath his skin, Luffy's blood burned.

"Hey, what's with that look?"

Luffy blinked, realising that he probably had a dazed look plastered on his face. Huffing a laugh, he tightened his grip around Shanks's neck, "Don't you ever let me crash down when I fall alright?"

"What's gotten you all sentimental?" Shanks tried to keep his voice light, though Luffy knew he had caught on with the never ending layers, "This is unlike you Anchor."

"You've only known me for a few months," he dead panned.

"True, but it feels like I've known you for more," Shanks had a distant gaze and Luffy had a moment of déjà vu. The magic was cut short when Shanks swiftly settled Luffy onto the ground.

"Doesn't matter," it does, "Makino's looking for you. Don't want to upset her now."

"No," Luffy suddenly felt hollow, "Wouldn't want to upset mother."

(No. Wouldn't want to upset Father.)

A finger flicked his forehead, making him stumble back and hold the red mark, "Hey! What's that for?"

"Don't like that look on you kid," Shanks chuckled, "Say you know what, I'll come along for the booze. That and your clumsy ass. Hey, Benn! Make sure the docks are cleaned once I get back! We're gonna do some fishin' aye?"

"Aye, Captain!" Yelled the first mate, "Bring back some booze!"

"Hahahahaha! I hold that to us'!"

Luffy tilted his head, "Fishing?"

The physically older man nodded, "Rumour has it that there's a big fish circling one part of the island. One the reason why foreign ships don't come here too often. We were lucky, used the opposite route, though a bit tricky with the coral."

"How'd you get through?"

"Our rudders retractable, we have a mechanism built in Water 7 to make it stay a float," he explained as they made their way to Makino's bar.

"Water 7?" The words were foreign to Luffy's lips.

"An island in the Grandline, mostly made up of water though. Nice place to go to, maybe you can go there one day, we got many of Red Force's material there, the best in the first part they say. The rest we knicked and picked in the second part."

His speech flee from his mouth, "You mean Afeursia and Haimirich."

"What."

"The first is called Afeursia, Old World, after Empress Eursia and the second, New World, is called Haimirich after King Americh. A star crossed romance, quiet a tragedy it was," Luffy shifted when he saw Shanks puzzled expression.

They had been two very powerful people, born and bred from two sides of the world, separated by a barrier. As all tales, their love story was never meant to be, there was no war or animosity, but due to laws given, their seas were meant to be separated for all reasons. One day, however, by fate's chance, Princess Eursia and Duke Americh, met in that cursed place. Americh who had never seen a flower so exotic fell in love, yet Eursia remained stubborn. They constantly visited each other yet never proclaimed their lives because sometimes, words were not needed to express the deepest of emotions. It wasn't till an outbreak of war happened did they have to fight each, and fight they did. For eight days and nine night.

On the ninth, it finally ended all that's left was an array of dead souls. The Princess and Duke, now Empress and King, met for the very last time, their eyes closed, last blood dropped and finally laid to sleep in each other's embrace. Their battle had shifted earth and sky, the barrier which was fought over was now buried deep within the sea, only a small line now indicated what once was. In their honour, what was left of the two seas named the first part and the second in their remembrance, in hopes to never be forgotten. And in the end, they were finally reunited, and would still be in the next life.

Luffy would know because he—

"There's no thing as that from what I can remember."

His heart shattered.

"What-what do you mean?" He swallowed harshly, "You're lying! It's been known that for centuries!"

Shanks was lying because Luffy _knew_.

The red haired man shook his head, "The first part is known as Paradise while the second part is well, you're right, the New World. Where'd you learn this from anyways?"

He was lying because Luffy _knew_.

"Though I'm interested now, I've never heard it like that. It sounds a bit like Ancient, that's hard to find-hey anchor are you alright?"

Luffy _knew_.

He ferociously wiped his trees and didn't say another word.

"You're lying."

Luffy knew because once upon a time, he was Eursia.

"You're a liar!"

Without another word, he ran.

Leaving behind the creaks of the Red Force and Shanks's grim expression.

 **-x-x-x-**

After that, Luffy strayed clear from Shanks.

The attraction was still there, but Luffy will never be close to one who spits ignorance at his history. Eursia's history. They were faded but still present, of a time where people wore gold and danced with twinkling bells. He had been adventurous and thirsting for more, thus her fated meeting with Americh. One sided at first, but they found comfort in each other. It was love at it's truest form. Their stories became legends passed down amongst generations.

And here Shanks was saying they did not exist.

That their love was not real.

No.

Luffy can still feel Americh's touches and her companions' laughter. She still felt the sword and blades and smell the oozing blood. It was real, no doubt about it, Luffy can remember every single one of his past lives and Eursia had been a recent one, truly making an impact. He loved (loves) Americh, his kind smiles and feathered caresses. It was real.

(Of the painter and the carpenter, to the knight and the savage, to the maid and the princess).

They are all real.

With an aching soul and broken heart, Luffy hid himself with the sands and waves. The tiny gravels going in between his toes as the wind flew by. He had spent the rest of the day here, and surprisingly, it had been Benn to pick him up.

"I heard you called Captain a liar," the man said lighting a smoke, "That's true since we're pirates but I think there's more to it than that. What's got you so distressed Luffy?"

"She's a beautiful ship," Luffy blurted, not wanting to tread back to painful memories.

"Pardon?"

"Red Force, she sings to me," he played with the seams of his shirt whilst pulling his body closer to himself, "She told me of your adventures with the wind and the waters. Now imagine her being shot down and left for good. Because that's exactly what Shanks did."

Benn stared at him, not with disbelief but rather, silence, as if studying a new piece of art, "I'd be angry, very angry."

"Exactly. Red Force would say so too, that's how I felt."

He inhaled and exhaled, "But she spoke to you? I must say I'm quite jealous, never have I heard her voice," there was no sarcasm, only genuine and true. "You sure are a special one, aren't you. Say you wouldn't know what," he trailed, choosing not to continue as if lost in his own thoughts.

"I see and hear things much more than you can comprehend," Luffy began, "Everything in this world has a colour, a song, a voice. Some are just left blind due to the ignorance of others. I called your Captain a liar because he does not see what the world truly is. He can't remember and that's bad."

"Not everyone can," Benn suddenly interjected, "And sometimes you have to accept that people have different perceptions. You'd might be more in depth than others, but that does not mean to say it's what other people see."

"I know," he choked, nearly a sob. Taking a deep breath in he tried again, "I know. I just, I just can't accept it. How can he not know about Eursia and Americh's tale, that is to say that he doesn't know about the sea and sky."

"I don't."

Luffy flicked his head toward him, "You don't?"

"No. Shanks doesn't know it, I don't, none of the crew does."

"Well, you're stupid."

"Offensive," he mocked glared, "But that doesn't mean that you can't teach us."

"It's a long story," he said glumly, before perking up, "Star-crossed lovers, who had to fight in the end."

"Oh? Is it a happy ending?"

Luffy rolled his eyes, not expecting this from Benn, "Stories with heroes usually lead to tragedies."

"True," he sighed, "Which is a shame really."

"Agreed," his breath hitched, "I just, I can't believe that so many years have passed that people doesn't remember, don't virtue the morals and pain that they, had to go through."

"Not many knows about the hardships of being a slave," Benn slouched down, towards his knees, "Today, most portrayals are in black and white. Only those who have experienced it sees the greys."

"You're right, it seems that things are different now," Luffy looked at the ocean, so great and vast, "The world has changed, the waves are a calm before the storm. Corals are forgotten and buried deep while they all await for that final ripple to shift things. I don't know if it's for the best or worst. We have been cursed with ignorance. And that, can cost you your freedom."

"Why do you think we're pirates?" The man retorted, "When that ripple becomes a tsunami, we'll be watching and ready. We ride with the wind. You have very interesting views about the world you know that?"

"Like you said," he grinned, "'different perspective'."

"You have an old soul," Benn said and Luffy wanted to laugh, that's one way to put it, falling from the heavens and chained upon the earth.

Instead he only gazed at the unchanging sky before smiling, "I'm just a free spirit."

"I guess it's really up to us whether or not we choose to be."

"Are you?"

"In a sense yes, but my loyalties will forever be with my Captain."

"Such devotion."

"It's called _Nakama_."

He grinned, "Shishishi I love that word!"

"Luffy?"

"Hm?"

"Smile, we hate seeing you sad."

(You have a beautiful smile. Use it.)

* * *

 **XIII.**

The world has forgotten.

But that's okay, he'll make them remember days of old.

* * *

 **XIV.**

Apologising is a sign of weakness. At the same time, it can show strength.

"I'm sorry."

When Luffy apologised, they were in the empty caverns of the bar. The doors creaked and ice melted within the juice that sat upon the cup. The sun's hot rays managed to thieve their way through the blinds. His words were soft yet resonated nonetheless.

Luffy hates apologising, but knew when it was needed. A good king will view their flaws just as a sinner would admit to repent their sins. He was once a man who had committed adultery, begging for his wife's forgiveness. He was once a prisoner sentenced to death, pleading that they had the wrong person. But all fell on deaf ears, he was beaten, slapped, punched and gutted. Except this time it was different, he was a boy and in front him was no judge, it was Shanks.

And like the sun, Shanks smiled, pulled him into a hug and said that nothing was to be forgiven. He asked, "Tell me of those legends that I do not know."

Without any restrictions, Luffy grinned.

He stole a story of the time where slaves were free men. When Queens danced with bears, an array of colourful fruits waiting for them. Samurais fighting Cowboys and princesses saving Knights. How Sea Kings could fly and fishes could breathe. When the world was one and held a unity. When the world was desperate due to long wars. And of a little boy, a peasant, a girl, a widow, a mother, a grandfather. Luffy made sure to tell all of their stories. The hardships and storms they had to go through to the moment of their last dying breath. From every scar to every laughter, every enemy to every friend. How fans cut through steel and silk shining in the light. A time where there was no government to dictate the world's perception. Once unsung and forgotten, has now been revealed.

Luffy cried in some parts, and before he knew it, the sky was setting. No longer was the cavern empty, now filled with men who held swords and guns on their body. To the travelling circus who came to town, children hid between mothers and peaked through to listen more. And Luffy laughed, because even though this was only a finger tip of what is to come, he is happy. That songs are being heard again.

.

.

.

.

.

 _"Don't cry kid, be happy."_

* * *

.

.

 **mālum: Latin word for apple, it is similar to the how evil is written in Latin, which is 'mălum'.**

 **hibiscus: this flower has many connotations. In North America, hibiscus means a 'perfect woman' while in Victorian times, it acknowledged a person's delicate beauty. In China, a hibiscus flower symbolises the fleeting and beauty of fame or personal glory. The hibiscus has five petals and when they all connect, it represents ultimate peace.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece**

* * *

 **General Warning: OOC**

* * *

 **Book I:** mālum

 _Dandelion_

 _02_

* * *

 _"Pride costs us more than hunger, thirst, and cold."_

 _Thomas Jefferson_

* * *

 **XV.**

Everyone in the crew liked Luffy, there was no doubt about it.

He evoked the memories of innocence left behind; of sons, daughters, lovers. At the same time, Luffy reminded them of their dreams and why they took the journey in the first place. He embodied youth and freedom, ducking under sails and swinging amongst the ropes. Luffy ran with the wind, just like their captain. His laughter sang with the waves, as rosy cheeks flushed underneath the sun. Soon, they became accustomed to Luffy's presence. Like a candle, one had said, bringing all those around him together. Luffy smiled brightly, earnest, beautiful, and filled with warmth.

He was small in stature, Benn noted, with skin unmarked by the bolts of time. His bones have yet to creak - brittle and breakable. Luffy was what people would call a cluster of childhood. He smelt faintly of milk and cookie dough, his fingers were still nimble with callouses that have yet to form. Protect, would be the instinct one would feel when seeing Luffy. Strange is what Benn would say. There was no doubt that Luffy is fragile, yet Benn could see that it goes beyond appearances. There was something that dwelled in his eyes, like broken mirrors shattered into tiny pieces of hope—lost hope.

Benn is not old, he isn't young either. He's got plenty of scars and enough smoke in his lungs to die sooner than later. Benn, first mate of Shanks's crew, has battled Marines and sea kings alike. He had seen many things, from men at their best to their worst. Arriving at this little village, he learned that it was common knowledge that Luffy was a little bit odd. He danced and cheered like all children his age. Yet he stared at the world with ancient eyes, as if he held a precious secret only he knew. There was a glint of mischief, and also sadness - one that shouldn't be found in a boy his age.

Lost gazes were meant to be on veterans, sinners, outcasts—not children. Children were supposed to be the future, the bringers of a new age. But he guessed, that in a world like this, whether child or adult, life would take no mercy on you. Benn idly felt the tingling burn on his shoulder blades, he leant forward and took a heavy inhale from his cigarette. There was a hazy fuzz from the alcohol, as a heat settled in the back of his throat.

Which brings to the topic of how rather than why. The East Blue was considered a weak sea yet Benn knew that the Pirate King, along with other feared figures, originated in this part of the ocean. Marine security wasn't as tight as it was in the North Blue, though there were several bases throughout islands. Devil Fruits were considered a myth and bounties began incredibly low. There were no signs of slavery or segregation. Everyone tended to underestimate the East Blue, and from a certain point, Benn can see why. Call him a sceptic, but he knew that there was something more going on.

Some of the islands were infested with beasts and surrounded by Sea Kings and there were random bouts of whirlpools that was comparable to the oceans of the Grand Line. Despite that, everything else was pitch perfect, and it wasn't right. Because Benn learned the hard way that nothing in this world has reached true perfection. The government definitely had something to do with this. They normally misled things to keep people away from prying. Something was going on in the East Blue, and it had affected Luffy. Or perhaps this was simply Benn's cynical side talking once again.

However, Benn continued to research and—

"Hey, Beckmann! Stop brooding in the corner and play some poker!"

The man sighed, softly grinding the cigarette against his teeth in frustration due to the papers stacked in front of him. Benn shoved them inside a book and exhaled a puff of smoke. The sun slowly crawled back to sleep as the moon tiptoed awake. Most of the crew were either cleaning up or making their way to Party's Bar. Yassop, along with Roo, were huddled in the corner with cards in their hand. The poker chips gleamed underneath the small, flickering lamp. He then glanced at Shanks who was already off the ship, being tugged away by an enthusiastic Luffy.

Jamming the butt of the cigarette into the ashtray, Benn stood up and made his way to the merry group of people. He dragged the chair and sat down, getting ahold of the cards before shuffling them. He remembered this deck, got it in a casino somewhere in Paradise, Alabasta, he was pretty sure. The design was different from a regular one, and the dark accents matched the shadows hovering between the planks of wood. It was pretty, intricate and swirled to resemble the whirling wind. Shanks won it off a bet, and Benn can vaguely remember the burnt anger from the opponent's face. Setting it down on the table he lifted his lips, "New game?"

"Sure, why not," Yassop shrugged, his curls shifting at the movement. The blonde leant back into his seat and popped a gum into his mouth. Yassop was never one to smoke, he drank, but not as much as the others in the crew. No one ever tried to find out why after he crisply answered 'sick wife'. They respected him for his choices, despite that, it was well known throughout the ship - maybe even the sea, that Yassop was a gambler. A good one too. Using a silver tongue and a trick up his sleeve, distracting his enemies with ridiculous stories almost too unbelievable to be true.

"We don't need your pity 'Sop," Roo grunted. Even with his namesake, Lucky Roo was far from lucky. It was amusing to watch whenever he lost to Yassop. The man tilted his chair against the railing, huffing angrily, "You'll see. I'll definitely win!"

Benn snorted, "You can try all you want Roo."

"Whaddya' mean by that?" His friend wasn't happy, making the scene much funnier than it should be. Roo reached forward to grab a slab of meat from the plate by the side. Here, Benn mentally frowned. The chef should really stop falling into Roo's bribes. Even if the man was active in battle, Benn had read that eating only meat, and too much meat, wasn't good for one's health. A book he found when they were visiting the West Blue. Nevertheless, Benn snatched the meat and threw it over his shoulder.

"Not healthy."

"You hypocrite."

"I'm only watching the health of the crew," Benn commented lazily.

"If you loved us that much, you should've said so Benn."

"Where's the Cap'?" Yassop suddenly asked, interrupting the small banter. Benn slipped another cigarette into his mouth and held onto the lamp to light it up, making the candle dim before blazing again. He drew out a ring of smoke, letting it float above him, hazing his vision of the night. Benn stared at the above, it was funny how even when the seas are different and islands were diverse in cultures, the sky would always be the same. He tilted his head and just realised how similar it was to humanity; everyone the same but different.

"With Luffy."

The duo briefly looked up, Yassop craned his neck, "Those two sure are close. Going to be sad when we'll leave. It'll remind me too much of when I had to leave my sweet Ussop behind. Worst day of my life. Or maybe," here he shook his head and chuckled, "You never know. Do you think the Captain would take Luffy on his ship? The boy's eager to be out at sea. Anyone can see that those two have become attached to the hip."

Benn hummed at his cards and raised a brow, "Even if he did. I don't think we could contain Luffy."

"I can see where you're coming from," Roo piped in, "That boy's a ball of energy."

"No kidding, though his mood swings are kind of scary," Yassop sniffed and placed his chin into the palm of his hands. Face relaxed and not showing any signs of anxiousness; calm, patient, the perfect image of a sharpshooter. It was what caught Shanks's attention in the first place. That, and the fact that Yassop was one of a kind, like the majority of the people in the crew. Yassop exhaled, "But I don't think that's what Benn meant."

"We're not the right crew for Luffy. Shanks realises it too. Luffy is in a different generation from ours. When he becomes a pirate, he and the others will shake the New Age to its core. We could never keep up," he inhaled, "And anyways. He needs a crew that understands him. Not old bastards like us."

"When? Not if?"

"Of course," Benn barked a laugh, "What else will he be? A marine?"

"Well," Yassop began placing his cards on the table, "Straight flush."

Roo groaned, "Oh man."

Benn smirked and stood up, not before throwing his cards on the table, "Royal flush."

"You have got to be kidding me!"

A new generation indeed.

* * *

 **XVI.**

The scar on his cheek was an oath.

(It was always on the left side).

To show that no one other than himself will drag him down. That no one will be able to reign over him.

He is his own king.

* * *

 **XVII.**

The fruit sat inside the caverns of a treasure chest, like a jewel ready to be taken. It's hues a majestic purple, the swirls twisting to seduce its viewer. A golden apple of discord, waiting to be eaten and create both anarchy and havoc. Entire kingdoms had battled against themselves for a single fruit similar to this one. Slaughtering innocents to steal a bite, one that would grant users terrifying powers beyond the imagination. The final craft of the devil, some would say. Because once eaten, it would chain its user into a pathway of sin - of course, that's what they say in the history books of Ohara. Simply stories to entice the viewer, but all stories originate from a truth.

(To an extent, they were right.)

Throughout the day he eyed that horrid thing, and there was no doubt that the sober portion of Shank's crew caught him looking at it. None voiced their opinion, dancing away to the eve of celebration. It was ironic how the fruit was placed inside a treasure chest, a fine mockery - he can still recall the era when tribes would put it on a pedestal and worshipped it as if the fruit descended from the heavens itself. Luffy snorted at the thought, a sour smile crawled up to his lips. Those were the days when people were ignorant yet still managed to have a semblance of freedom - unlike today where the majority were content living in this faux peace.

Part of him, the one from his chaotic youth, wanted to laugh and use the fruit in his arsenal to create destruction. The fruit itself was a curse, and only time will tell how many it will bring down with it. Another part, the older one, wanted to throw the wretched fruit far from humans ever knowing of its existence. Then there was the boy (this body) whose interest grew with each passing hour. The little boy's curiosity won and without a second thought, Luffy leant forward and held the fruit in his hands. Everyone in Shanks crew blind to the scene happening behind them as he tucked it in his shirt and walked back to his seat.

"Everything alright Anchor?"

Luffy grinned and sipped his orange juice, "Just fine!"

* * *

 **XVIII.**

"You okay Captain?"

Seagulls glided through the air, their song a higher soprano to the ocean's timber. The Red Force sailed with the wind, rocking gently against the blue tides. This was what freedom should look like, away from blood and sins, underneath the open sun. Yet none of it reached Shanks's heart, as a troubled weight settled in. It churned and twisted uncomfortably, as the memory of a boy's cries thundered inside of him. Shanks sighed, allowing his head to rest against the railings. His feet hung in between the holes, as he breathed in the sake in his hands.

His first mate, best friend, brother, took a seat beside him and tilted his head to give a brief glance. The man's rough hands nimbly slid out a cigarette, resting it in between his mouth. They were both terrible with their addictions; Benn smoking and Shanks drinking. It was a wonder how their organs haven't shrivelled up and died yet. Or maybe they had to be Whitebeard's age to finally be forced into a chair. Shanks withheld a chuckle, no, that was wrong. Age wasn't one of them. And if the old man ever heard that comment, he'd probably cleave Shanks's head off.

People from different island grew up with different immunities. Shanks's, whose hometown specialised in alcohol, was in the presence of sake for as long as he could remember. Those in the Grand Line were generally stronger than those of the Four Blues. But there were exceptions in every generation, a couple out of a thousand, Shanks smiled briefly, his Captain had been one of them. Luffy would be one of them, no doubt about it. Which comes to the subject—"Do you think he hates me now?"

Benn barked out a laugh and the man should really shut up because Shanks wasn't feeling any better. His lips drew into a pout as he chugged down the sake. Shanks grumbled, "It was just a bottle of sake! Nothing worth to get in a fight. I thought Anchor was smarter than that. Pfft, guess he's still just a child," and then Shanks whined, "Though now I feel bad. Not for not attacking that stupid bandit. But cause I think he hates me! Benn, help me! What should I do?"

"I don't think he hates you," Benn chastised, the smoke around him like an embrace. It flew away as a gentle breeze brushed his skin. "Just sad. Keep in mind that Luffy is a very prideful boy and he has a lot of faith on what he believes in. I can see where he's coming from. The bandit was insensitive. He hurt Makino, Luffy's mother. What would you do if Higuma hurts one of our Nakama?"

"Kill him."

The smile that Benn gave him was humourless, "Exactly my point."

They were pirates, not born or bred, but made. Though he didn't pillage or plunder, Shanks and his crew still caused a whirl of destruction in their wake. They shot the bullets and raised their sword, which soaked their clothes and stained their hair. Shanks is a pirate; greedy, scoundrel, outcast. He took what he wanted and protected those precious to him, not caring if the world would burn in consequence. As long as he had nakama then everything would be alright. Harming a nakama, was one of the worst things you could do in Shanks list or morals. And it seemed that Luffy agreed to it as well.

(Nakama is family.)

Higuma was no more than a twisted bundle of lies, his pride a cheap imitation of the people Shanks once had the honour to know. The red haired man didn't give too much thought when the sake was thrown all over him. It was good sake, one of Shakky's signature, a damn waste but no one should be angry over spilt milk. A shame that the porcelain cups broke, though nothing that couldn't be replaced. Shanks laughed it off, something that his Captain had always told him to do. And then, in a fit of rage, Higuma smashed all the things on the bar's counter. Sending bits and pieces of glass in the air, and some of it had landed on Makino's skin.

She had reassured them, telling everyone that it was alright. Shanks trusted her, Makino was a strong woman, nothing like that would hold her down. But Luffy thought otherwise, Shanks remembered the wrath etched on the boy's face; a calm before the storm. It had been unrestrained, and if it weren't for Benn, there was no doubt that Luffy would've done something he'd regret. The look that he had given Shanks tugged at his heart. It was of anger and betrayal. I thought you were better, the boy had whispered, hurt lacing his voice. That struck a cord, it's image forever implanted in his mind.

(For a brief second, Shanks was a child instead of a leader. There was a flash of silver surrounded by fire—

"You are more than what they say, boy.")

"Do you think I should've killed him?" Shanks murmured.

"He's not worth it Captain," Benn quirked a grin, "And Makino would've hit you if you spoil her floors."

"Yeah, she's one frightening woman," Makino reminded him too much of Shakky, a kind exterior and pleasant to all her customers. To those she hated, however, that was a whole different story. Shanks could see why Luffy loved Makino, "Do you think he'll ever forgive me?"

"What's there to forgive?" Benn held his hand of Shank's shoulder as if taking away the weight. "Right now I think he's just a little bit confused with his emotions. Despite being a weird kid, Luffy wears his heart on his sleeve. Give it a while Shanks."

"Will I have enough time?"

After all, time waits for no one.

"You will."

But fate does.

* * *

 **XIX.**

The word 'damsel' derives from 'demoiselle' which means young lady. Makino was female, she's still in her youth but by all means, she is certainly not a damsel in distress.

Unknown to many, Makino was a bastard of Goa, an orphan raised in the streets. It was Woop Slap who took her in, placed her under a roof. Makino liked the village; a little quaint, a little quiet, but far away from the hands of nobles. It provided her with a sense of security, something that was foreign to her when she was in the junkyards. It was where she met Garp - after trying to pickpocket him - and where she learned about family. Soon, Garp came to the conclusion that it was his duty to teach her how to survive and though Makino couldn't split seas or crumble mountains, she can defend her own.

It was survival - a word forever engraved inside her mind since childhood. Growing up, Makino was surrounded by predators, one slightest mistake could lead to death. Makino was used to taking care of herself, watching her own while backstabbing others. Her life had been straightforward and very simple. And then, out of the blue, Makino was entrusted to Luffy. Sweet, baby, Luffy, with his chubby cheeks and delicate bones. Here, things became different - instead of taking care of herself, she had to take care of another. It didn't take long for the boy with the obsidian eyes to chase her pain away.

With Luffy, Makino managed to forget about the scars that kissed her back and the callouses that shadowed her skin. Waking up every day to hear his laughter made the dark world slightly brighter. Magic, some in the village would say. Blessed, others would whisper. There was no denying the fact that Luffy softened her edges, he mellowed her heart and helped inch the smile on her face. But a blunt knife can still be a weapon. So when Higuma and his bandits strolled back into the bar after Shanks left, Makino did the only sane thing she could. She fought.

Makino appreciated the fine luxuries of life. She liked applying makeup, and she'd go on dates every so often; her hair mattered, and she liked buying heels. Though you can take a predator away from it's habitat and make it adapt, you can never take the killer out of the predator. The knife was a familiar weight, despite the arm around her neck and the gun against her temple, Makino went into action. Like a well-oiled machine, she intercepted the bandit behind her, flipping him over her shoulder and twisted his hand to grasp the gun. The trigger was pulled, a bullet sailed through the air and embedded through flesh.

With deadly precision, she kicked a table, sending a group of bandits to the other side of the room - Makino winced, damn, that was going to cost money. Annoyed, she emptied the barrel of bullets and threw it at an empty tankard, it shifted at its place and toppled over, bringing people down with it. At the sounds of footsteps and swift thrust of air, Makino ducked. She did a fluid handstand, moved her wrist and served a large arched kick. Prompting herself to her feet, Makino stared at Higuma, who paled considerably, and grinned. It was large, vicious and would make Dragon proud.

Makino punched him.

"That's for a good waste of sake."

"What the—Holy shit!"

The bartender blinked and glanced at the entrance. She wiped her hands on the apron and smiled, "Hello. You're all back early."

The Red Haired Pirates stood at the doorway, many with newly tanned skins, some tinted in pink. Their hair was windblown and eyes slightly dry from the salt in the air. Nipped by the sea, Makino frowned at the water dripping against the floorboards. Shanks was the first to speak, lips set on a grim line. It was easy to forget, underneath the clown exterior, just how dangerous the man in front of her was. Makino knew he wasn't a threat to her, though it didn't stop the tingling against her neck as he spoke, "Where's Luffy?"

"With Woop Slap, they're at Gyoru's to organise the fish for the festival next week," Makino grabbed a mop, "Now, are you boys going to just stand there or help me clean up before Luffy gets back?"

Shanks relaxed significantly at the news that Luffy was safe, "You heard the woman!"

"Aye, aye Captain!"

As the others swept the floors and fixed the tables, Benn walked up to her, placing a hand on her shoulder, "You alright?"

"Yeah," Makino smiled, "I'm fine."

"So how did all of this happen?"

"What can I say?" She shrugged before casting a smirk, "Testosterone."

"Makino!" Came Lucky Roo's voice, briefly cutting off their conversation, "Where do I put the trash?"

"I don't care," she called out, "as long as I don't see them anywhere near here."

"Ma'am yes ma'am!"

Benn leant against the counter and raised a brow, "Not your typical bartender, are you now, Makino?"

She hummed, wiping the splatters of blood off from the corner, "Well, in our world I don't believe there's anything considered as normal. Honestly, though, they had to come inside the bar out of all places. Men. I will never understand them. Some, underestimate women. And others completely disregard us, as if we're below them."

"I don't think that."

The green haired woman paused her actions and settled the cloth down, her eyes were wide in surprise as she stuttered a word out, "Pardon?"

"No one's below anyone, we're all equal. It doesn't matter whether you're old or young, man or woman. They can just be as fierce as a man can, smarter if they choose to be, stronger if they want to be. And vice versa. In the end, we're all the same. Gender nor race or faith in the eyes of others should be able to determine what we can and can't enjoy, what we can and cannot do."

"I—"

"Benn! Help us out 'ere!"

He flicked her forehead, "Duty calls."

"He's right," Benn halted his step.

Makino softly tilted her lips upwards, "Luffy calls you a mouse. And in Goa, there's a phrase about mice; see the world as they do, and you are wiser than those that kill it. He's right about you Benn, you're a kind man."

* * *

 **XX.**

With every occasion there's a tradition and myth to it, the Dandelion Festival was no exception. It goes something like this:

There was once a Lion, whose roar was so powerful that his land was frozen in gold and fortune. No evil dared to step on the Lion's home just as none would steal, in fear of his wrath. The Lion's people were seen silk and riches, many were happy because they lived life to the fullest. _Paradise_ , many would whisper from distant lands, _you wait and see when the poison falls_. And in a way, they were right, because all things great comes with a price. One day, a creature walked upon this paradise. It hobbled on a walking stick, face gnarled with harsh scars and skin flaky like scales. It's back hunched over, one side protruding painfully as the other was dragged against the ground.

 _'I have no possessions in me except this single flower'_ , it said motioning to the limp dandelion in its hand, _'but I hope it's enough for a single apple. I am very hungry, having travelled many miles, across the seas and over mountains. Please kind Lion, may I have the honour to taste a single apple?'_

As they say, everything comes with a price. Due to his pride, the Lion, who was worshipped and cheered by followers descended into cruelty. So instead of helping the creature, the Lion laughed and mocked it, _'You jest! Surely you jest! Get out of my sight disgusting filth and may my eyes never fall on the likes of you.'_

 _'You poor being'_ , the creature whispered in disbelief, shaking its head as it whispered once again, _'how the mighty has fallen.'_

Right before the Lion's sight, the creature grew into a monstrous height. It's spine arched straight like the tall shrouds of a centurion tree. The cloak that once hid pus and grime rippled into a cloth cutout from a midnight sky. A crown of bones curled at the top, sharpened and glinting without in need of light. Beauty and death combined, for the being in front of him, was none other than the Lady of the Underworld. _'You have failed me'_ , it said before waving its arm in one fell swoop, _'may you receive punishment to seek redemption for a heart as cold as yours.'_

No lion was seen, in its place, a dandelion.

Without, its protector to scare away the evil, the land plunged into chaos; culture was raped and history burned to the ground. Children who once danced and laughed starved, their corpses infested with maggots as their hearts decayed into the earth. No gold glittered and the only thing that sung was the haunting melodies of restless souls. Soon winter crept in and all that was left was a husk of the past. Amidst all this, the Lion, in the form of a dandelion, sobbed in anguish. It was because of his hubris did innocent people lay to waste, did his home crumble into ash. The Lion's cries were like thunder, yet the world was deafened to his sorrow.

It wasn't till a little girl, from far away, came to a field of shrivelled flowers and listened to the Lion's tears. _Drip_. Drop. _Drip._ Amongst greys and brown, the dandelion sat in the middle, petals downwards and barely clinging on against the coarse wind. The little girl tumbled down the hill, twigs scraping her knees and vines yanking at her hair. She took one step, then another. The girl took pity on the Lion, so she gently peeled the roots out of the land's hold. With tuffs and twists, in a breath of air, instead of the dandelion, it was a lion before her. Yet his mane was pale and worn short, though his body was large, it fell limp on the ground.

 _'Why do you still cry?'_ The little girl asked.

 _'There is nothing left'_ , he said, _'the lands have died, the sun is shadowed, life is gone.'_

 _'Not all'_ , the little girl smiled, _'there's the sea, have you forgotten? Beyond, above and everything in between. Come with me and I'll set you free once more.'_

Thus the tale of the prideful lion who learned humility. Legend goes that the dandelions had to be taken out so the guardian, the Lion, can roar away all darkness. The dandelions were then set into the ocean so the lion can rest. It was a cycle, one that would bring luck to the land - a tradition that would mark a year of good seasons and healthy crops.

 **-x-x-x-**

"And there you have it," Makino beamed as she closed the book shut.

"Wait! Hold up!" Shanks exclaimed, "It can't just end there! What happens next? You know, the Lion and the girl? Are they out at sea right? Are they pirates now?"

"Not everyone ends up being pirates," the bartender huffed. She stood up and placed the book on the counter, it was decorated with hanging dandelions, some more yellow than others. The colour matched the lanterns on top, a pretty luminescent that glowed Makino's features. The tavern matched her bright clothing as candles were lit while the chalk drawings on the wall brought an array of colours. Many of the candles were scented, bringing a euphoric quality to the room. Not many were present, the majority of Shank's crew left to do the heavy lifting around the village as they prepared for tonight's festival.

They were all enthusiastic about it, Shanks himself dressed the part. Instead of a heavy black cloak, he wore an earth brown poncho, given to him by the lady down the lane. The rest of the crew also had ornaments bestowed by the other villagers as wells as face paint trailing their skin. It was small gestures like this that were truly treasured during the eve of the festival because sometimes, differences needed to be set aside and people just had to celebrate the joy of being alive. Luffy was one of those people that enjoyed the Dandelion Festival. There were no human sacrifices or boring speeches, it was simply people dancing, drinking, laughing to the luxury in simplicity.

"What do you think Luffy?"

He blinked.

"What?"

Makino chuckled and dropped a chain of dandelions on his head, "It's 'pardon me' young man, and what do you think of the story? Where do you think the Lion goes?"

Luffy glanced at the book, which had been given to him by Garp. The pages were yellow and wrinkled, the words were written in traditional Goan instead of the usual Common. Only a few who lived in rural villages such as Foosha understood the language. It was pretty writing with more phonetic tones, underneath it were small sketches to help depict the reader of the characters within the story; about a lion, a lady and a girl. Three main factors, it's a lesson being that too much pride will only lead to disaster. Huh, how ironic is that?

There's a saying about pride; it comes before the fall. Luffy is all too familiar with pride, he breathed it in just like the surrounding air. He wore it as an armour, a second skin that keeps him standing. Long ago, before paper was made and stories were read, he was a king who let his people fall due to egotistical views. In another, he was a general who led his soldiers to a death march, unwilling to surrender despite the odds. No matter how many lives, death, chances - pride is an object that coiled inside his soul, never able to let go. Even now, Luffy latched onto his pride like rain to gravity.

If there was anyone who understood the Lion the most, it'd be Luffy.

It doesn't take strength or speed to be wise and when you have it all, wisdom is the last thing in your mind. Luffy remembered the thrill of power as it pumped through his veins, roared in his blood. He came with bows, spears, artilleries - it changed as the world progresses. In the end, he'd win some and lose some. But with his shoulders wide and grin brimming at the sun, it didn't matter if he lost because he had fought. He was once great, with his hunger sated, everything else didn't matter anymore. Yet in another, he remembered blind leaders, wanting more until they stumble and fall. He saw wives turned into widows and children to orphans because of pride.

The Lion in this story reminded Luffy of himself and it was very, "Sad."

"And dumb," he decided to ignore Shanks's raised brows and Makino's distraught expression, Luffy picked his nose, "Because I don't think there was a little girl to begin with. I think that once winter came, the dandelion was blown away. And what was left was only the stem, which also does, cause of the cold."

He's not holding back a sob, he's not. Because that was the boy lost in a famine, dictated by a cruel leader. That was the woman raped and kept silent due to imagery. The prisoner whose head was shaved and arm branded. The thief who was lashed in public for stealing a loaf of bread to feed his family. It was the slave crucified for wanting a rebellion. Those, and many more were the ones who wanted to cry. Not Luffy, not the child who had a grandfather, mother and village to look after him. Here he's privileged, here, he didn't have chains or nails digging into his wrists. Here, Luffy is fine.

"Holy shit! Makino he's going to cry! Oh, my Goda - Benn! Where's Benn? We need — ouch!" Shanks whined with a pout, holding onto his head that was tender after coming in contact with Makino's knuckles. The woman in question placed her hands on her hips, staring at the redhead disapprovingly.

"First, you do not cuss in front of Luffy. Second, Benn is busy on the other side of the village. So don't start screaming like a maniac even though you're just as crazy. And third," here Makino turned around to kneel at Luffy's height, "Sweetheart, what's wrong? You've heard the story before and you love the dandelion festival. Are you feeling ill? Do you want me to call your grandpa?"

"No!" Luffy denied, furiously rubbing his face. Bringing Garp into the matter was out of the question. He was just feeling a bit sentimental, that was all. Luffy flared his nostrils, "I'm fine! Tch. Stupid-Hawk! Who says I was crying?"

Shanks slung an arm over his shoulders, "So what's wrong Anchor? Ain't good to carry so much burden ya' know?"

 _Maybe, just maybe they'll understand—_

"Am I a monster?"

Life swarms with monsters, from the rapists to the killers. To those deemed as God and others called as demons. Luffy remembered men who could set the sky asunder and women who could raise fiery rocks from the ocean floor. When the world was scorching with ire and where paths were paved by teeth of the defeated. Things have changed after this so-called World Government came to order and perhaps it was for the better. But Luffy can still smell the rot of flesh and the taste of iron on his tongue. There will always be monsters; some asleep, while others were wide awake and causing havoc.

"Why do you say that Luffy?" Makino's voice sharp and clear.

Because I'm like the Lion, he wanted to say, but of course, his pride was in the way. Instead, he shrugged and said, "If you knew who I really am. You'll see me as a monster Mama. I know it."

"Oh?" Her voice perked, "And how do you? Last I recall, your name is Luffy, not Makino. And all I see in front of me is my son."

"Bah!" Shanks pulled him close, "Who says monsters are bad anyways? I'm a monster, Benn's a monster, Makino-eh, well, like I was saying, monsters are awesome! Who wants to be normal anyways, that's boring!"

The little boy, lost in life, leant into his Hawk's embrace; soft, warm, home. Luffy was not a good person - the soul which resided in him was a layer of sin upon sin. He once found delight at the smell of pus oozing from the burnt witches (the farmer's girl who lived down the lane). Not so long ago he thirsted for anticipation at the sight of war and gory battles. Luffy shuddered, "But what of the people that killed a lot? What about them? What about the ones who continue to kill?"

"Listen, kid," Shanks inhaled deeply, looking older than his age. He took a heavy swallow of the sake, "Killing ain't easy. One man, a thousand, once you've taken a life it makes no difference, you get labelled as a killer, murderer and you live with it. In the end, it doesn't matter what the world thinks of you. All that's important is that you don't lose yourself."

"What about family? Nakama?"

"Well," Makino hummed and caressed his cheek, "If they truly love you then it won't matter. And so you know Luffy, everyone here loves you. Don't you ever doubt that."

"I," Luffy clamped his mouth shut. The edges of his lips twitched and then he smiled, "Shishishishi! Thank you! I love you guys too!"

"Good. Now help me bring the food to the square, make sure you boys don't drop it!"

"Ma'am yes ma'am!"

There was still a weight in his chest and the world on his shoulders, though his legs didn't hold him down. Luffy tugged at the flowers in his hair, Foosha was bustling with people. Brightly patterned fabric arched with the air as children ran. The bonfire at the centre of the village glowed, it's embers stroking the night. The crew mingled with the people, feet thumping against the ground as they danced to the music. Luffy smiled, for a brief moment, he saw animal pelts and feathers instead of carefully sewn clothes. There was a clinking of beads, an echo of the past, and the thrum of a tongue chanting a forgotten language.

Luffy stared at the people, so young and untouched and thinks: they will never understand.

 _—but they're only human, so it's okay._

(He lets go of the dandelions and whispers, 'Goodbye old friend.')

* * *

 **XXI.**

"Tell me about your Captain."

"Oh Captain," it was sung like a lament; beautiful and sad, "My Captain."

They were sat on the porch, Luffy curled in the corner watching as the older man stayed silent; trapped in his own world. The gentle pull of waves thrummed in the background as a cicada's song embraced them. Shanks's lips curled upwards, a crestfallen smile shadowed by melancholy. It then bled out into a chuckle, the notes like chipped glass. Shanks threw his head back and howled, it was loud and tragic and terrible. What should be happy was full of torment and woe. Finally, he calmed down. With a shaky breath, Shanks massaged his temples. Luffy grinned and held his hand, lending encouragement and comfort, Shanks smiled back; a bit brittle and crooked but unbroken.

"Horrible man," he began, "Awful! He laughed weirdly too, always annoyed the hell'a my friend. Goda! I remember when Buggy would always complain about it when we were cleaning the deck, and let me tell you something, Buggy never shuts up. A danger magnet, his first mate absolutely hated it when he got in trouble. 'Too fearless,' Old Man Rayleigh used to say. But it brought good fun, adventures that you can't find in this part of the ocean. My Captain was a good man that didn't try to do good things. He was very greedy, especially to those he valuable. Straightforward and wasn't afraid to defy fate. The whole world hated him! But to us, he was family."

The red haired man gulped down the alcohol, "He was nearly unstoppable. We'd like to think he was unbeatable and at one point, I think we forgot that he was still mortal."

"What was his name?" The question snapped the man out of his stupor, he paused and glanced at Luffy. The question was innocent enough. Names, after all, are very important. He remembered being in the scalding desert, where names were numbers and uttered only on a piece of papyrus paper. Where words were told by whips and endearment unnecessary. There was no mother, father, brother, sister — it was slave, bastard, bitch. As sad as it was, the most painful for Luffy was the fact that he couldn't remember his real name from his first life. Forever stuck at the top of his tongue, hoarse in his throat and dry on his lips.

"Gol D. Roger."

"Gol," Luffy whispered, rolling the syllable. He was reminded of a mesmerising garden dipped in shades of sunshine, "Gul. That's a pretty name, I haven't heard it in a while."

"Gul? It's Gol brat, say it right," Shanks huffed a breath, "He's probably rolling in his grave. When there's a name, say it right," he repeated.

Luffy crossed his arms and pouted, "I know that stupid! Names are important! Everything that has a name is important. And I am saying it right, I'm just saying it in a different way. I can hear it, everyone says 'Gol' now, but its true sound is 'Gul'. This is why I talk to Benn, even though he can't hear the same things he tries to understand! You're stupid Shanks!"

The older man hit him in the head, "Don't go disrespecting your elder's brat!"

"I'm not a brat!"

"Yeah well, says the underage kid who can't drink alcohol!"

"Alcohol is icky!"

"It's a man's drink!"

"Oh? Not only are you old but you're a sexist as well?"

"I'm not a sexist! I'm just saying that it's for adults."

"No, you said it was a 'man's drink'."

"I didn't mean it like that!"

"Sexist!"

"Brat!"

They both glared and then Shanks gave a frustrated groan and gazed at the starry sky, "You see the world in eight ways."

"Thousands actually," Luffy piped in. Shanks glowered and flicked his forehead, "Ow!"

"It's a figure of speech! Tch. Honestly, how does Makino deal with you?"

"She's a saint," the little boy chimed.

"No shit."

Neither said anything before Shanks took out a coin and flipped over his thumb, the small cling fractured the comfortable silence, "You know it's weird, people usually called the captain 'Gold'."

Dark brows furrowed, "Gold? But gold's boring and useless and it's just a lump from the ground."

"Hah! You're probably one of the people few people to say that!" Shanks exclaimed, "The things people do for treasure."

"But treasures are valuable, are you saying that gold is important?"

(The words were naive, something you'd expect from someone so young. And when Shanks stared at the boy's eyes all he could see was the truth, simple and clear. Yet said by youth it was told by age, a wise being who held the secrets of the universe.)

"Well," Shanks drawled, "If gold and riches aren't important than what do you find in a treasure?"

"Makino, you and your crew—no matter how annoying you are. Then there's Gramps and the town. I like finding new memories too, they're nice," here he paused, "the feel of the wind and sun, they're pleasant. I also like languages. Languages are great! I don't know how you guys can be stuck with speaking one boring language. Stulti et caeci! I swear."

"Funny, my Captain really liked languages too," Shanks mused.

"Then he must have known that Gol derived from 'Gul'."

"Gul," Shanks scrunched up his nose, "Feels odd. But you're right, it's smoother, a nicer sound."

"Rose Garden," Luffy muttered. He thought of the rose bushes by the rhododendrons. Both flowers that held the cusps of beauty and pain. He remembered it's cold scent as dew drops trickled down the stems and past the thorns. It was bright amongst the sea of green, matching the swirls of clouds that lazed above. It was such a captivating flower, untouchable, making it even more desirable.

"Pardon?"

"The name means 'rose garden'. There used to be roses, in a garden that had everything in it. The roses were special, they reflected one's soul. Before, did you know there was no such thing as yellow roses? It wasn't till a woman was accus-idthingy of adult-y," he furrowed his brows and tried again, "accused of adultery did they exist. She had to steal three red roses which showed love and throw them in the water. When it turned yellow it represented cowardice, fear."

Luffy frowned, "It's a really sad story. She actually loved the man with all her heart. But in the end, lust won over her. But yeah, Gul is a pretty name. Because roses are different from other flowers. They're a simple beauty with memorialis—memorable perfumes."

Luffy made sure to keep his mouth shut when he saw Shanks's glass gaze, "Gul. I'll make sure to remember that. Huh, it's kind of funny imagine it. Gold Roger the owner of Rose Gardens instead of Gold Roger the Pirate King."

"Pirate King? What's that?"

Shanks' eyes widened and jaws hung downwards. At Luffy's genuine look, he coughed and pulled himself back together, "You don't know? You poor sucker," he pulled Luffy into a side hug, which earned him a disgruntled look, "Let me tell you a great tale…"

Once upon a time, there was a great pirate. His name was Gol D. Roger, he had conquered every single treasure that existed. His last words before his execution inspired pirates all around the world.

'Want my ultimate treasure? It's possible, I will give them to those who can find them. I have gathered everything in this world and already hidden them in 'that' place.' He greeted death like an old friend as it unshackled him from the chains set upon him.

The world was then pulled into a pirate era, from the young to the old, they all went out to see in hopes that they can find the greatest treasure of all: One Piece. The person who finds the One Piece will become the new Pirate King. And they say that the Pirate King has the most freedom in the world. Riding in the waves, dancing with the wind, sleeping underneath the sky.

To become Pirate King is to be free.

* * *

 **XXII.**

There was no such thing as a goodbye until the very end. And even then, death will only lead you to something new; for the better or worse. It wasn't that Luffy didn't believe in farewells. Be it fate or destiny, Luffy doesn't care about that bullshit. Life plays in strange ways and he knows that there are strings attached from one person to the next. He just knew that this wasn't the final stop between him and this crew. There was a whisper that determined for something more, it beckoned him towards the future, tugging—promising.

Luffy stared at Shanks, whose height shielded the sun and Luffy felt like this body's age; a small little boy trapped in his own world. Short with supple skin and eyes far too wide that spoke of a naivety rarely found in these ages. And in one fell swoop it all disappeared because when he stared at Shanks, he did not see the tall man who overshadowed him. No, Luffy saw an equal, he saw a friend and comrade, a nakama. In a sliver of a second, Luffy saw something more; a phantasm of a man, who's coat marched Shanks' hair. Luffy felt his heart flutter because the grin he saw screamed of adventure and was full of life.

"One day," he began as if telling a story of faraway lands, "I'll find a crew stronger than yours." It will be shaped, into something great and far more larger than any continent. He will have nakama and family from each end of the earth, "And find the world's biggest treasure." Perhaps not of silver and gold, perhaps it is of people, precious people that value can never be weighed. It will be created into a beautiful story, one with laughter and joy and perhaps even tears. They will face hardships and obstacles to overcome.

"I will become the King of Pirates!"

As soon as those words were spoken, the man in the red coat disappeared. Leaving only the flight of seagulls and the view of the sea.

(I know you. You were once–)

"Oh, so you want to be bigger than us, aye?" Shanks lifted his hat, "Well then—"

He placed it on Luffy's head.

(The crown was placed on top of the prince's head. This was the boy of a new generation, one that will alter the world. The crown-less will once again be king.)

"—This hat is my gift to you."

It was a promise.

"This is my favourite hat, you know? When you become a great pirate in the future, you will return that hat to me."

Shanks gave a parting wave, and one by one the crew marched on board the ship. Sails were let loose while the flags swayed to the rocking sea. The jolly roger was white stark amongst the blue. He stayed till the ship became nothing but a long horizon. Clutching the hat tightly, Luffy grinned-wide, wild and unrestrained. And if anyone noticed the sobs wracking his body and the tears drenching his cheeks, no one mentioned it.

Luffy doesn't believe in goodbyes, and he never will. Goodbyes are only for those who doesn't truly love the person, there no such thing as true separation because what life will let go, the soul and mind latch on.

* * *

 **XXIII.**

"Captain!"

"What?"

"The Devil Fruit is missing!"

"...well shit."

 **-x-x-x-**

Luffy swallowed the fruit, it tastes a bittersweet mixture of ash and memories. He blinked away the tears and with a tightened grip, crumpled the fruit into dust; it remains trickling like wine.

("Why isn't she allowed to eat it?"

"Because Father said so."

"But we're allowed to eat it, so why can't they?"

"Don't question Father's judgement. Hush and eat your apples."

"I don't want them anymore."

"Questions like those are dangerous, don't say them."

"Of course, Father knows best after all.")

.

.

.

.

.

 _"The new generation, they're the ripple that'll create a tsunami."_

* * *

.

.

 **Dandelion: The name derives from a French word that means 'lion's tooth'. While majority often see it as a weed, as a gift to loved ones, dandelions provide the significance of happiness and is a promise of complete faithfulness.**

 **AN: Benn is a conspiracy theorist, Makino is a BAMF and Shanks didn't lose his arm!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Don't own One Piece**

* * *

 **General Warning: OOC**

* * *

 **A/N: I want to express my many thanks to those who liked this story! Thank you so much!** **Anyways, I just want to say thank you for all the readers out there! I was pretty insecure to put up this writing style cause it's not that coherent. Well, enough from me. Enjoy~**

* * *

 **Book I:** mālum

 _Plumeria_

 _03_

* * *

 _Love arrives_  
 _and in its train come ecstasies_  
 _old memories of pleasure_  
 _ancient histories of pain._

 _Touched by an Angel, Maya Angelou_

* * *

 **XXIV.**

Ace knew fire.

Death.

Destruction.

* * *

 **XXV.**

There were two phases in this life for Ace. One, where he was blissfully unaware and ignorant. The other, was when Ace learned the bitter truth.

At first, home had always been in the green foliage of a jungle, by the misty blue mountain tops. Where the sunset bleeds into the night and a grapevine of stars twisted into a constellation of jewels. Ace grew where salmon ran in streams and cicadas crooned in trees. This was his little piece of heaven plucked from the skies; an isolated Eden, hidden beneath a world of chaos.

Ever since he learned the truth, however, Ace dreamed of something more - stories before. The memories unlatched itself and Ace saw another life, from open skies to ocean depth, from a king to a slave. Beneath all the gale of torment, he remembered of the time beyond everything else. A home dipped in gold and dribbled with honey, where feathers hovered in the air and wings soared across the sky. He thought of the one who held his hand, he thought of the lover who held his heart. In that life, the first, Ace was a warrior who was sworn to protect the King. Now, he died as a mortal only to revive into an endless nightmare.

In this life, Ace was raised by a cobblestone group of misfits; dented and imperfect but bound by bonds. His mother had passed away years ago, the strain on her body finally taking its toll. Yet Ace could still remember the swirls of her hair and the bittersweet smile dipped in moonlight. Rogue had enjoyed sitting on the windowsill as the tides pulled in, those were the times when she thought of distant memories. Those were the times she thought of Roger.

Despite Rogue's tales of him, Ace still hated Roger. The man who put his dream above all else, the man who became great, the man who left his mother to die. Rogue loved Roger and depicted him nothing more than a loud man brighter than the sun, in contrast to how the world saw him as his namesake; a pirate who pillaged and plundered. Ace knew far too well that history is written by victors but there was no denying, even now, he still hated his father. Roger reminded him far too much of the past, a remnant that should be left forgotten.

"Hi."

The grave stared at him.

The sea was loud, like a percussion of instruments echoing in a hollow ballroom. It matched the deafening rhythm of his heartbeat. These were the moments when Ace told stories to his mother about dancing cowboys and talking beasts. Trickles of time would rewind itself and no longer would it be a boy who sat in front of the grave, it was another being entirely. Today was different, today altered the universe.

Ace looked up at the sky.

"I found my King again."

 **-x-x-x-**

 _This is one of their many encounters:_

He was on a cliff.

"I can't do this," Ace murmured, "this is stupid."

(cowardhorribleuglycoward.)

"Stupid means you're unintelligent, foolish. I don't think it's stupid, I think you're scared."

The words were said in a patronising voice, it's pitch a constant stream of song. Ace blinked once then twice. A soft breeze glided across the grass and shifted sable locks. It was as if someone took a thin sheet of golden papyrus and drizzled droplets of ink. The freckled boy was looking at a near image of himself; with darker skin and softer, feminine features. The person in front of him was perhaps a few years younger, dressed in tattered clothing and a straw hat on his head. He smiled and Ace restrained himself from recoiling. It was bright and sharp like someone had carved out a piece of the moon and placed it on his face.

"It's okay to be scared, sometimes fear keeps you alive," there was an enigmatic quality about the boy. The way his smile peaked upwards and demanded attention. It subconsciously made Ace stand up straighter, set his shoulder slightly broader. "But don't live in fear, cause you'll spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder."

When Ace frowned, he grinned and walked past him to lean over the edge. His action made Ace's heart stutter in both fear and anticipation. A gust of wind flew past them, making the boy laugh; a twinkling of chimes in this silent world. He turned around to once again face Ace, "I don't think I could do that for the rest of my life, shishishsishi. Too troublesome. That's why we learn to overcome fear because in the end: it's only an illusion."

The boy shifted into the edge yet again and was quite a sight against the endless veil of blue, with his arms raised on each side. There was a dome of clouds behind him, it's arc casting an illusion of wings. It was, Ace reluctantly admitted, a pretty image. Yet all Ace could think of was, 'holy shit this kid is crazy'. Thanks to Garp, jumping off cliffs weren't a problem for him. It hardened his flesh and compacted his bones. Ace was strong, the bandits knew it, even Sabo knew it—no matter how much he denied it. Ace could survive taller cliffs, though the boy in front of him looked as if a single gesture could snap him in half.

Ace doesn't care for people because why show compassion to the world that wanted him dead? For years hatred was a disease that crawled beneath his skin, eating him out and leaving a gaping hole. The only thing that managed to keep him together was the small bits of affection from the few he came to know as family. Despite that, Ace felt butterflies in his stomach. It wasn't the strange fluttering offended described by the girls in the bakery, no. This gnawed his innards in an unpleasant way, one that wrenched—worry? Ace swallowed harshly and nearly halted his breathing when the boy took another step backwards.

 _Ba-dump._

"Woah! Wait, stop! What are you doing?"

 _Ba-dump. Ba-dump._

"You know how to swim right?"

The question took him by surprise, "Yeah why—"

"Then catch me as I fall."

 **-x-x-x-**

A caress.

A whisper.

A tragedy.

 _This is one of their many encounters:_

Dust rolled in arched waves as sand clung onto bare ankles. The scalding desert of the east was a foreign land for Americh. Shades of tan dominated the streets but streaks of vibrant red could be seen from whores in the corner. Houses were built by sand and clay, decorated with oriental patterns. Exotic spices filled the air, mingling with the incense that sat by an open window. Children ran with laughter etched on their faces while the dancers swayed to a rhythmic drum. It was beautiful in a subdued way, the colours were hidden and when seen, gave a life all on its own. The surroundings were different to the usual grandeur of Americh's home.

Chapped lips pulled into a ghostly smile, tightening the hold on the satin cloak. Americh climbed the rubbles ruins of a building and gasped as when he reached the top. Sunlight made the grounds look like molten gold, while bright fabrics cast the illusions of flowers. His eyes trailed the skyline, all around them was a kingdom of sand.

"Pretty isn't it?" Came a voice, "Though appeal depends on the beholder."

He turned to see a girl draped in heavy silks. The ends were tarnished in mud and shadowed most of her being. She would have easily been lost to her surroundings of it weren't for her smile, they were like pearls glistening in the moon. Her eyes were poised in crescents but eased into something wise and old. The girl was a muddled image, young and ancient all the same. He reminded Americh of the scribes that loomed across the archives. Yet there was a glimmer of youth that could only be seen in childhood.

"You know, the first time I went to the desert I barely paid attention to the sand. Because I only saw the sky. Then, I can't remember when I saw the desert again and I saw everything with the realisation that something beautiful doesn't have to be shiny or great. Just appreciated, loved. Since sometimes, it's the hidden things that are the most beautiful."

She plopped next to him, "You're in my spot by the way."

He blinked and gave a lazy grin, "I don't see your name anywhere here."

"It Eursia," she tilted her head, "My name's written up in the sky can't you see?"

The boy laughed, "Well. Eursia in the sky, my name is Americh from earth, it's very nice to meet you."

A hand was offered, their skin brushed and Americh recoiled in shock as a bombardment of memories invaded him.

 _Ba-dump._

"Say, have we met before?"

The soul swallowed carefully as his heart broke into pieces, "No. It's the first in this life."

 **-x-x-x-**

"I found my treasure and he doesn't remember me yet again."

("When you fell, heaven followed.")

* * *

 **XXVI.**

Borsalino stared at the hibiscus in his hand and hummed a soft lullaby. The tenor of his voice was hoarse, the once perfect pitch now a remnant of the past.

White over white with scabs of blue moved simultaneously as the ensigns listened to Zephyr's bellowing. Borsalino quirked a smile when nostalgia nuzzled his mind. Time passed by in in a blink of an eye; centuries became minutes, months merely seconds and hours into nothing. It was odd to see Garp's greying hair and Tsuru's wrinkled smiles when moments (years) ago their youth was still vibrant. Borsalino bowed his head as he watched soldiers go marching by and waited as history repeated itself.

Clouds altered, oceans rose, mountains sunk, things changed though the truth is: all remained the same. Millenniums have passed and Borsalino learned to pick up similarities from one to the other. The destruction he used to find humorous and entertaining became tedious and boring. The world became nothing more than a cocoon ready to crumble, the butterfly already passed dead. He watched and watched as a monochrome shadow settled above the universe.

Borsalino could still recall the era before any of this happened; when the sky was an infinite cupola of stars when fruits were limitless and famine far from everyone's minds. Borsalino remembered his last meal, apples on his tongue and ambrosia sliding down his throat. A thread of pleasure before the war began. War. Such an ugly thing dressed in beauty. Here, he barked out a bitter laughter, the phantasm of wounds oozing out of his shell. Borsalino sipped the wine, the alcohol burned his throat and warmed his stomach. A bittersweet melody twisted itself on his tongue, "so gold turned to dust and home became a husk. Farewell, my dear Elysium."

"Head in the clouds again Borsalino?"

He settled the wine glass beside him, the hibiscus laid forgotten as Borsalino looked up to see Kuzan. His friend still had sleep weighing on him, clothes hazardly clustered together. With a slouch, Kuzan dragged himself to where Borsalino sat. Their attention didn't waver even when a heavy wind collided against the tall walls of headquarters. Ever since the Ohara incident and the loss of Jaguar D. Saul, Kuzan had trouble sleeping. It was obvious in the ways he took naps during the days and the heavy bags underneath his eyes.

Ohara. An example of how much mankind has fallen. A genocide that held no mercy because those in Pierre were simply too afraid that the common people would discover the truth.

Reminiscence ate him up as he remembered the little sapling that was planted amongst taller branches. Borsalino sadly smiled as he thought of little Hara with her passion and thirst for knowledge. How her cornflower dress would be stained with dirt as she trekked throughout the island they once called home. What he could have done. What he should have done. It didn't matter anymore, as the tales that Hara had written was now lost at sea.

( _"_ Bagdatikos _? What's that?"_

 _Hara grinned enthusiastically, "Well everyone is writing in rocks these days so I thought: let's try something new! And look what I made," she held the ragged thing in her hands, "_ Bagdatikos _!"_

 _"Is that made out of the cyperus papyrus plant?"_

 _"Yep!"_

 _"Why not call it cyperus or papyrus?"_

 _"Cause it doesn't sound nice!"_

 _"Well then whatever you say, Princess," he huffed a laughter, "You D's, I'll never understand you."_ )

Borsalino hid the memories and tucked it into the corners of his mind. With an aching chest, the man gave a lazy smile, "Wonderful evening is it not Kuzan?"

His friend shrugged and twiddled with the beads in his hands. It was childishly made, the paint chipped and blended in an awful way. The flowers were pretty to look and the letters 'ROS' was written very carefully. He blinked when Kuzan plopped down next to him, "Would be if Sengoku wasn't calling for us. Maa, I'd rather sleep than face Revolutionaries."

"Revolutionaries?"

"Yeah, there's a spike of them in the Four Blues, that's what the meeting's for; 'control and assess'," Kuzan sighed and Borsalino could relate. Revolutionaries were an unknown factor, sneaky little bastards that weaved their way into every conflict without getting noticed. Fighting a revolutionary was a whole problem entirely, while the majority didn't reach their level, there was definitely a number of formidable opponents within their ranks. Kuzan scratched the back of his head, "That and the fact that Hawkeyes been sighted and we're supposed to invite him to become a Shichibukai. Think he'll accept this time?"

While Mihawk was an 'alright person' in his books, had great taste in wine, though he was an extremely difficult person to persuade. Borsalino grimaced, "If he's bored enough."

"Tch. He and that Red Hair is causing a mess everywhere and we're left to clean it up," Kuzan rubbed his eyes and exhaled heavily, "What happened to the lazy days?"

Borsalino drowned his wine, "Guess the youth of today are catching up to us."

"We're not that old," Kuzan scowled, "Compared to some of the other Vice-Admirals."

"Don't tell Tsuru that. She'll cleave your head," Borsalino laughed, "Maa, how time flies. Sometimes I wonder when the game will finally change. It gets boring don't you think? Repetition every day? But I guess humans are creatures of habit who don't like change. As long as they're fed with false security, they're fat with comfort. Quite boorish, don't you think?"

Kuzan stared at him and Borsalino's smile faltered seeing the wrinkles that began to crawl on the younger man's skin. Kuzan was a rare friend, difficult in a world of lies. A man who tried to do good things, a human with a whole future ahead. Physically, Borsalino was only a few years older than Kuzan but the fact that his friend was doomed to die was a harsh reminder of immortality. Borsalino swallowed, "I'm rambling."

"No. You make a fair point," a seagull passed them, it's feather drifting in the wind. Kuzan clasped his hand and Borsalino found it ironic how he created an imagery of a sinful man pleading for salvation.

"Just keep in mind that not all thirst for adventure," Kuzan created a bouquet made of ice before shrivelling it into a single flower, a daisy, Borsalino noted. The other man hummed and continued, "some people like that safety - no matter how faux it is." The flower twisted into one decorated with leaves, "If you take away the labels, there's no 'good' or 'bad'. Only survival." It shifted and the leaves disappeared, replaced by thorns, "Not all are strong so they have to adapt to survive." With a sway of his hand, it phased into a rose before turning into dust, "Filter the world and you'll have a beautiful illusion. And people love beautiful things."

"Beautiful things don't last forever."

Kuzan smiled, crooked and broken with the loss of hope, "That's the beauty of it."

Borsalino glanced at the bracelet and blinked once more when the echoes of a heartbeat reached his ears. It was faint, merely a second but magnificent in all it's sound.

 _Ba-dump._

"Yes, that's the beauty of it."

* * *

 **XXVII.**

There was a terrible tundra beneath Ace's skin; it rumbled and grumbled, ready to be unleashed. Below his youthful rage was something made of porcelain, it was fragile, dented and decorated by a myriad of cracks. Their relationship was of a flee and follow pattern. Luffy found himself trudging through mean, childish, words to grasp Ace's hand. The touches were brief, a whisper against his skin but it brought a cradle of warmth and comfort. After that came the flurry of punches that lead to scratches and bruises.

Ace was always ahead of him, shoulders heaved with the burden of the world. Luffy would stare at his back for far too long and see someone else. A shadow of the past, a glimpse of a heart.

(Luffy can't remember his first life, a lost relic in a sea of artefacts, but there was something about Ace that made him feel safe. Familiar. The taste of deja vu on his tongue - a smile, a nose, a way of talking. Then a tear would fall. Silent and unseen.)

The pain was masked with a smile, buried upon layers of childhood.

"Oi, what's with that expression?"

"Shishishsishi! Just wondering what I'll have for dinner!"

Ace glowered and crossed his arms, "What are you even doing here anyways? Can't you get lost?"

Ever since he saved Luffy from the dark waters, the two found themselves meeting on the cliff by the grave nearly every day. Their adventures would start there, either with a happy grin or a grim scowl. Luffy always made sure to bring baked goods from Makino. Like him, Ace favoured meat though there were occasions when a tart would bring a smile on his face. The crust glazed in sugar, fruits tucked inside, covered safely by a blanket of pastry. Luffy couldn't cook to save his life but there was no doubt Makino can. Conversation remained sparse though it became easier as days went by. Except for moments like this when the other was moodier than usual.

Ace was a sight to behold, the afternoon light burned like an undying ember as clouds wrenched themselves free of blood. Luffy saw a warrior, raw and bathed in anger. He could imagine it, in a prairie of gold with animal pelts as armour. Instead of freckles, it'd be war paint crusted from the dry sun. Ace was a warrior, thick and through, but right now he was no more than an insecure child hiding from the world. His cheeks, though flushed and pampered by youth, looked sharp against his wild hair. Luffy bit the inside of his cheek and touched the wispy locks.

"The hell are you doing!" Ace recoiled back, hand on his head.

"It's not as soft as I thought," Luffy pouted before shrugging, "Oh well. I like it!"

Luffy huffed a laugh at Ace's blush, he ignored his stuttering heart and chose to take a bite out of the apple pie. His grin widened when a guillemot dove down and glided across the ocean before it disappeared from sight.

He breathed, "Beautiful."

"The birds?"

"No silly," Luffy smiled, "Freedom."

Luffy grabbed the flowers inside the picnic basket - which consisted of more food he managed to sneak in. They were pretty: red, oranges and yellow, like a bundle of fire in his palms. He braided the stems and gently intertwined one over the other. Braiding was a useful skill, whether out sailing or climbing a mountain. Luffy remembered brushing his daughter's golden hair while humming an old lullaby, it always brought a smile to her face. As he finished the last thread, Luffy realised that he had been singing, "Ah. Sorry, seems like I got lost for awhile."

"What's that song?"

Luffy blinked, "Hm?"

"The song, where'd it come from?"

"Oh right," Luffy gave a thoughtful expression. Now that he mentioned it, "Actually I have no idea. Doesn't matter! Do you like to sing Ace? I do! My favourite song is Bink's Sake. Gather up all of the crew, it's time to ship out Bink's brew. Sea winds blow, to where, who knows? The waves will be our guide—ah, what's wrong Ace?"

"Why do you hang out with me? I mean, there's other children in the village. Why can't you leave me alone?" There was confusion as if Ace was trying to figure out a puzzle. A hidden complexity laid in the child's eyes - something that annoyed Luffy to no end. Because while most adults were predictable, it was the children that mystified him. Born without hate, yet growing up in a world full of despair. Luffy frowned and shifted closer to the other boy.

"You're so silly Ace," Luffy plopped the crown of flowers onto the other's head. Many of the petals fell into his hair, it's colour bright in contrast. Humans are so strange sometimes, asking the obvious, "Why would I do that when you're lonely?"

"Do you," the boy looked away and swallowed harshly. His head was bowed, there was a vulnerability that showed in Ace's posture and didn't feel right. His shoulders hunched, spine tilted, a gesture of defeat - like he was expecting something horrid. Ace licked his lips and hesitantly asked, "do you want me to live?"

(Life is beautiful, living can be cruel.)

The sheer delicacy of his words exposed Ace like a raw wound. Luffy stared down at the callouses on Ace's fingers, he glanced at the neck bare from a collar. Ace was a captive to his own being, a mental debate warred inside of him, a side of loneliness against another which starved for affection. Luffy looked at Ace who's eyes were wide and cheeks still chubby - compared to him, Ace was still a child. There was no blood on his hands, no bones in his closet, no lifetime of sins that dragged itself towards his feet. Ace was still young, a bright boy, destined to do great things - things that would change the world.

Luffy held the boy's cheek and with a soft smile, he said, "Ace is Ace. Nothing in the world can change that. I don't care if you're a sinner or a saint, my Ace is my Ace."

Ace's breath hitched, "What if I told you I'm descended from a bloodline of demons?"

Life swarmed with monsters; from the rapists to the killers, to those deemed as God and others called as the demons. Luffy remembered men who could set the sky asunder and women who could raise fiery rocks from the ocean floor. A world scorched with ire, each path concreted with the teeth of the defeated. Even now, there were still monsters. Some asleep, while others were wide awake and causing havoc. Luffy was not a good person, not so long ago he thirsted for the sight of war and gory battles. He once found delight at the smell of pus oozing from the burnt witches (the farmer's girl who lived down the lane).

"What if I told you I am the devil?"

Ace was simply a boy who was shown too much hate to understand comfort amongst others. He kept a strong facade, almost invulnerable yet Luffy could see the unshed tears and the chipped pieces of his heart. It was something he knew all too well, something he experienced himself. As a slave, hermit or emperor, loneliness is the worst sickness to have.

"I—"

So Luffy said the words that would cure loneliness:

"I love you."

The sea and sky witnessed his proclamation.

"W-what? Don't say things like that out of the blue idiot!" Ace blanched and hit him over the head. Luffy leant into Ace and embraced him.

"I love you for who you are, all you have been and all you've yet to do."

"We've just met and you're saying stupid things like this," Ace whispered and kept his gaze above. "You can't love me Luffy. You can't—I'm wrong and tainted and someone you shouldn't be near with. You deserve more goddamit, you don't-you'll regret it. Stay away from me Luffy, you're young. You're not in love. You're delusional."

( _The Warrior stared at his King, "You cannot love me, sire."_ )

"Stop saying what I deserve and don't deserve! Only I can do that! Who says I'm innocent anyways? I'm a pirate, we're not supposed to be heroes! Ace is my nakama, and nakama means family. I won't regret loving Ace because he needs it. Mamakino says that sometimes you have to give love to the people who thinks they don't want it-cause really they do! My nakama are precious, so I won't regret loving someone who's hurt and lost and in pain. I won't regret it, mark my words."

"Why? Why are you doing this?" Ace tilted his head back and laughed, the null of happiness and drenched in sorrow. He bit his lip, "We've only just met for Goda's sake. You don't know me."

( _He held her close, "I've fallen in love with you. All over again."_ )

"I know you like plumerias 'cause they're nice and-and I know you like Mamakino's cookies, who doesn't? But I know you like them the bestest in the world! Plus who cares how long we've known each other? Three months, three seconds, what's the difference? Ace is really strong but you look down on yourself cause you're afraid," Luffy said, "I can't blame you but sometimes people need to take a leap of faith."

"Leap of faith?" Ace didn't scream but his voice held no bounds, "How can I take a leap of faith when there's nobody to trust? How can I take a leap of faith when the world wants me dead?"

"I don't want you dead," Luffy stated.

"That's because," Ace gulped and tore his gaze away, "That's because you don't know."

"Do I need to know?"

"I," the other boy halted, "You won't love me. Not when you know."

"Ace is Ace."

"Ace," he began mockingly, "Is the spawn of the Pirate King - it was because of me did mothers and children die. It was because of me that my own mother died. I carry bad blood within my veins, I don't deserve to live. But sometimes I," a sob escaped him, "sometimes I think that I do deserve to live when I'm with you and Sabo and the others cause you're all goddamn stupid. And it's wrong because a monster like me shouldn't exist. You see it now, don't you? Why you can't love me?"

( _"I'm the reason you die. Every single life."_ )

"Eeeeeh?" Luffy cocked his head before grinning, undimmed by the shadows of reality, "Then we can be monsters together!"

Ace gaped, "You don't get it!"

"Do I need to? Because I don't care if you're a monster, I'm a monster too. So is Shanks and Benn and Makino and everyone on Shank's crew. Shanks says that monsters aren't bad they're just different and Mamakino says that being different is good!" Luffy's fingertips grazed his cheekbones, "All I see is my Ace who's scared and lonely. And I know that being alone is worse than getting hurt! I've made up my mind, I love you and nothing in this world can stop me from loving you!"

Then there's was a relief, all the tension uncoiled itself from Ace's shoulders, He inhaled deeply and neither spoke of the tears that were shed, "You're crazy. You're kind and really awesome and you're crazy."

"Maybe I'm just a fool in love," Luffy pecked him on the cheek, "Maybe it's cause I'm selfish and I don't care what you think. And I'm not asking for permission because through thick and thin, young and old, I will always love you. Against all odds, even beyond death itself. Deal?"

(He swore never again. Never again. But as he stared at the angel in front of him—

He's _falling_ -

-and it's wonderful.)

" _Deal_."

* * *

 **XXVIII.**

The second time Sabo met him was in a special place, shrouded from the world and its prejudice. It was a strange day, to begin with. Water slithered through the rocks and nature whistled in the background. No. Well, that bit was normal but the fact that Sabo couldn't find Ace anywhere was frustrated. They don't usually meet every day and Sabo knew full well that Ace can take care of himself, though a full week of not interacting with each other - or at least give him a sign, seriously Ace? - really grated his nerves.

Their friendship began with one of mutual respect: Ace needed money and Sabo needed food. Ace knew the jungle and Sabo knew the junkyards. It was rough at first, Ace's scale on human interaction was limited to none and Sabo only just managed to escape from his family. Both were wary people, the world their war zone. Somehow they made it in the end, all is good, everything's fine—until Ace goes fucking missing. Ace is a big boy and Sabo shouldn't be this worried, it's bad for his health, but Ace is his friend and he's nakama. So if Sabo has to burn the fucking world to find him, he fucking will.

Dadan, to no one's surprised, had no idea where Ace was. Though Sabo could tell from the telltale signs that she was worried. No matter how much anyone denied it, Dadan was a mother to all of them. When food was sparse, she'd leave extra out. When the weather was cold, a blanket could be found on the porch. She might be rough around the edges, but Dadan held her heart on her sleeve. The woman hid underneath a solid exterior, one that would take blood and bruises to pass. From her furrowed brow and tired frown, Dadan had obviously thought of Ace. Sabo couldn't blame here, even if Ace was strong, he wasn't the brightest crayon in the box and often got into fights with men twice his size.

Thus all this led him to the creek that oversaw Foosha Village. While Dawn Island wasn't the largest island around, it was enough to make Sabo grumble at the unfamiliar terrain he encountered. Sabo searched high and low for Ace, he visited each village and didn't see any sign of the raven haired boy. Other than Hightown, all that was left was Foosha, a quaint place overlooking the ocean. Sabo was a thief and these were the places he tended to avoid; filled with decent people who didn't deserve to be burgled.

Windmills rasped in the light air as golden stalks tumbled. The road was marred in dry dirt and low wooden fences, gravel nudged against his shoes and leaves drifted in between the cracks. Humble houses scattered admits the field like daisies in spring. As he walked inside the village, oddly enough, Sabo didn't receive any ill looks from its inhabitants. Instead, he was welcomed by the faint aroma of fresh bread and the soft lull of chatter. It was homier than the other villages, certainly a polar opposite to Hightown. It wasn't perfect, there were uncut grass and peeled paint, but it was nice and he liked it.

"Are you lost, young man?" Sabo blinked and looked up to see a man wearing a bowler hat. He looked gruff but offered a crooked smile nonetheless.

"I'm uh, I'm actually looking for some sir. And I think he might be here." Well, if Ace wasn't here that meant he left the island. So this place was his only hope left.

The man scratched his chin and murmured, "Wouldn't know why people would go to Foosha out of all towns. Ain't nothin' interesting here," Sabo bit his lip and gave him the best puppy dog look he could. The man sighed, "If you're really insistent go to Party's Bar, by the beach. The bartender knows everyone who goes in and outta here. Maybe she'll know a thing or two."

"Thank you, mister!"

"It's Woop Slap brat."

Party's Bar had a charming quality to it. The wood was polished and the ruddy red paint gave character. There were flower pots by the side, which had painted pictures of stick figures and yellow suns. The bell dinged as he stepped inside. Not many occupants were in the bar, at this time of day he doubted it. Though there were a few that merrily dived into their food. Sabo's stomach grumbled, how long has it been since he had a decent meal? With an empty stomach, he sat down on a stool.

In this situation, he would usually eat and make a quick dash. As the bartender approached him, however, Sabo thought otherwise. She was pretty, dark hair clipped down by a roughly carved barrette. The facade would've fooled most people but Sabo was a noble and he knew a mask when he saw one. There was something dangerous beneath what she wore - from the way she gripped the glass to the knives hidden in her sleeves. The bartender reminded Sabo greatly of the people others always avoided. It's the quiet ones, they'd say, that'll kill you in your sleep.

"Welcome," she greeted, "What can I get you?"

Sabo shifted, there was no sound from his pockets as they were devoid of money. He decided to smile pleasantly, it was a bit fake and the woman caught on by the looks of it but Sabo forced it to stay on. He was hungry, desperately hungry, though none of that mattered because he needed to find Ace above all else. His parents had shaped him into the perfect gentleman and although he didn't show it around Grey Terminal, this woman earned his respect. So he kept the smile on even when it strained his cheeks, "Good morning ma'am. Actually, I'm here to ask if you've seen anyone around my age here? Black hair and black eyes, caucasian with freckles."

The woman tapped her chin and gave a thoughtful expression, "Freckles? Hm, it's on the tip of my tongue," she went to the back and took out what looked like meat and orange juice. She offered a kind smile and placed it in front of him, "Why don't you eat while I think about it, on me - I'm sorry what was your name again?"

He blinked in surprise, "I'm Sabo but ma'am I don't want to intrude..."

She cut him off with a soft chuckle, "Nonsense. Fill yourself up, there's still more in the back."

Now it was moments like this when he shouldn't eat food given by a stranger and he knows from experience that when people gave something to you for 'free' they tend to want something in return. The woman in front didn't seem like that type of person and he didn't sense anything malicious. In addition to that, when was the last time Sabo ate a well-cooked meal? He smiled, large and genuine, "Thank you!"

"AAAAACE! Le' go of me!"

"You idiot! How many times do I have to tell you to stop jumping off the cliff!"

"Why does it matter anyway? You always catch me in the end."

"That's not the point Lu!"

The second time Sabo met him, the boy was soaked in water while Sabo had his mouth full of food. He gaped, "It's you-"

He snapped his gaze at the other next to him, "-and Ace!"

"Bluejay!"

* * *

 **XXIX.**

Sabo is a speaker of thoughts, a visionary built from having witnessed the corruption from upper echelons. A dreamer who wanted something better for the world, who desired equality above all else. Bluejay - just like how Shanks is his Hawk, Makino is his Mother, Garp the Knight and Woop Slap the Chief. Names are multidimensional, take away a name and you take away a part of their soul. With every name there is a meaning, a purpose, shrouded away from the rest of the world. Said in the sweetest of sounds like a hummingbird before dawn. All it took to know that name is silence and the voices will follow.

(Sabo is his given, Bluejay is who he is and his true name-

was a _secret._ )

Luffy liked Sabo, he was kind and very cool - which Ace took offence in because, hey I'm cool too! Unlike the older boy who was temperamental and easily agitated, something that often got them in trouble, Sabo dealt his problems with a clear view of the outcome. He was also well educated, schooling was only for the rich or those who had sponsors. The rest of the population had to learn as they grew up, only a small percentage of the population had the luxury while everyone else was left to pick up the pieces.

The three of them now lived in a treehouse, or what Luffy liked to call their very own pirate ship. It wasn't tall nor was it that old compared to the other trees on the island. The bark, however, was incredibly large and Luffy enjoyed hanging small seashells from the branches. The treehouse itself was cozy, a few holes here and there but nothing some nails and hammers couldn't fix. Ratty blankets were strewn around, accompanied by soft fur and colourful pillows. Sabo's books were made snug into one corner while Luffy's drawings were pinned up against the walls. Though another foundation of the home, Luffy didn't stay there all the time, Makino made sure he came back to the tavern often.

With Ace and Sabo, Luffy was bound to meet Dadan and the bandits, just like how they met Makino. A fearsome woman with wild locks and made godawful food. She and Ace got into fights a lot yet Luffy saw how much they cared for each other. The other bandits were okay, not as awesome as pirates, and Luffy found that he liked Dogra the best. The man was fascinated by languages and also carried a dictionary with him. An interesting fellow and he hadn't been a bandit, Luffy would've mistaken him as a scholar. Sometimes the bandits would visit Makino's tavern, usually on Sunday evenings, and everyone would party to their heart's content.

Overall life was good, excluding the part where Luffy was kidnapped by some pirate named Bluejam all because of some gold. In the end, he was rescued by Ace and Sabo, got an earful and the three of them promised each other to never tell the event to Makino, after all, hell hath no fury for a woman's scorn. Nevertheless, the evening ended just fine, with the sharing of sake as the three declared themselves as brothers.

("Shishishishishishi! I love you guys!")

Thus another day of music, Luffy enjoyed music, when he has a crew in the future, he'll make sure to find an amazing musician and teach them all the songs he knows!

Sabo's fingers danced against the monochrome keys, up and down the stairways as it echoes filled the cavern. The deep notes sunk into the heavy wood and not far behind was the light tones of a soprano. This song had the ghost of a raspy voice and a swinging saxophone. The blues, Makino had called it, it was the blues. An upbeat rhythm galloped through the air, kicking away anybody who was sitting down onto their feet. From dainty heels to frayed flats, everyone followed it's chorus. There were gasps of excitement when lemon yellow dresses swung in the air, graceful limbs twirling at the sound of laughter.

Makino's dark hair was unbound from its proper bun as her bones gave brusque sways. Even cranky old Woop Slap in the corner looked like he was having the time of his life. Luffy grinned as Ace took another clumsy step forwards like a newborn calf, clearly, the other boy was out of his territory but Luffy didn't care as he urged them to keep dancing.

He laughed and laughed and yeah, the old soul stared at the scene in front of him, life was good.

(He should've known that good things won't last forever.)

* * *

 **XXX.**

There was a shroud up above, decorated with a kiss of cotton candy clouds. Seagulls plunged and swiped across the ocean's crest, their finely crafted wings rippling to each movement. With a huff and a puff, Luffy blew bubbles into the air. A stream of kaleidoscopes twinkled underneath the light, swirling to the joy of laughter. Soap suds trickled down his palm and onto the sands, quickly washed away by the travelling waves. A pair of hermit crabs hidden underneath their home and Luffy giggled, greeting them with a kind smile. They were incredibly pretty, legs a vivid red and their umber shell speckled in ochre.

Near the shore, Ace cleaned a bountiful amount of fish while Sabo prepared a small fire, hands nipped by splinters. When the sun blew out like a candle and the cold graced their skin, the three brothers huddled together below an old cave's haunt. The citron they found in the jungle tasted acidic in Luffy's mouth but he ignored it in favour of weaving the asphodels in his hands. His head was tucked safely underneath Ace's chin and Sabo was at his other side, arm curled around his waist - it tightened. Luffy blinked and looked up. Sabo's parlour was ghastly pale, like a grim skeleton on Hallow's Eve.

He was tense, shoulders curled and ready to strike. With this posture, Luffy was heavily reminded of the tribal warriors that once lived along the skies; weary of outsiders and ready to defend their family. Sabo didn't seem like the type who dressed up in pelts and feathers but the animalistic intensity he was displaying, Luffy saw no other than a protector. It was odd, unlike Ace who buried his worry with anger and seclusion, Sabo usually held it in so flawlessly even he had trouble seeing. Right now, however, it was the opposite. Luffy didn't like it one bit.

"Blue, why are you sad?"

"I'm fine," Sabo smiled - it was a beautiful smile, radiant and extremely sad.

"You're not fine and I didn't ask if you're fine silly. I asked the reason why you're sad," Luffy chimed chastely. He placed the wreath atop Sabo's head and kissed him on the cheek. Luffy leant against his shoulder, "I think 'it's fine' is a pretty generic word anyways. Comes from 'finis' and somehow it means ' splendid' or 'fair' of whatever you people came up with! Gah! I'm off topic again!"

Luffy held Sabo's face between his hands, "Words can lie just as actions can speak the truth. Everyone hurts and hiding it becomes so normal to us that we begin to forget about the hurt around us. We see it but we ignore it and slowly, that hurt will eat you up and you'll end up being broken. They might not know it themselves, but sometimes all it takes to make it go away is to open up, have a person to listen. And don't go spouting out about: I'm fine alone, I can take on the world. Because the fact is you can't, the weights too heavy, you need to share it and if you think that there's nobody for you - stop. Look around. Cause there are people around you who cares about you. You're not fine Sabo, you're hurt. I want to help."

"You heard our little brother," Ace smiled, "We're here for you."

"You guys are," he trailed and then swallowed, "I love you guys. I don't want anyone to get hurt."

It was rare for Sabo to be afraid, Luffy's brother was proud and strong. The only times his heart bled out was with Bluejam and when the blonde told them he came from a long line of nobles. The fact that he swore was surprising enough, Sabo was a person of etiquette, it was only when he's on edge did the boy ever swear - a verbal tick really. He was clammy and Luffy didn't like the way he gritted his teeth. Despite his discomfort, Sabo straightened his spine and told an ugly tale.

Celestial Dragons they were called, placed upon the pedestal and feared by the common people. Encased in a thick layer of glass, these World Nobles claimed to be descended from the twenty kings that shaped the world today. The women were dressed in waxy yellow with toxic neon jewels. While the men, had their slime slick hair back and their greasy nose pointed outwards. They believed that life was built for them and it's aspects moulded into their preferable view. These scum were pampered and haughty and conceited—and painfully reminded Luffy of himself once upon a time. When the universe was younger, before he knew of famine and slavery before he found a home in suffering.

They paraded the streets with chains in their hands and human beings dragged behind them like dogs. Hearing this, Luffy felt disgusted. At himself and those who closed their mouths and simply accepted their fellow brethren dragged away from their freedom. From his own experience, Luffy knew that things like this didn't last well, there would be uprisings and rebellions but nearly a millennia, not as old as he but still long enough, millennia of racism and slavery and abuse. Something heavy piled up in his chest at the very thought of it.

"Rumours say that they're going to Dawn Island. I don't know when but people are saying that the nobles in Hightown are going to burn down Grey Terminal."

"No," Luffy breathed. The Grey Terminal was their playground, same as the forest. Not to mention that there were thousands living in the trash heap itself. Luffy knew people there; the fisherman who lost his home to a typhoon, the little boy who scraped down in the gutters. It was dirty, horrible even but it was home to many. If it were to burn, those people would burn with it.

Sabo hugged Luffy closer, "They're protected by Marines and they keep slaves and if you do anything, as much as look them in the eye, you might get killed and no one will care because they'll be too afraid."

"We need to, we need to," Luffy gasped as panic settled, "We need to find a way to stop this! It's not fair!"

"That's the thing Luffy. Going against them means going against the world," Sabo shrugged, "They're only whispers but a lot of people are moving outwards from the terminal. Sure, there's still a lot inside but, rumours can only get you so far you know?"

"We're pirates! The world hates us already anyways it won't matter! We have to start warning people and evacuating them!" Luffy exclaimed, missing the glances between the two older brothers and Sabo's tilted nod.

"Luffy," Ace gently kissed his lips, short and sweet. He held the smaller boy's hands, "Whatever you do stay away from them. You heard what Sabo said, they're dangerous. A crybaby like you will only get hurt."

Luffy pouted, "I'm not a crybaby!"

"Well," Ace brushed a stray lock, "You're our precious little brother and we only want you safe."

Sabo swiftly shifted Luffy onto his back, "Now let's go to Makino's. Bet she's worried about you. Maybe we can have peaches instead of apples."

"Ew! Only apples are the best stupid Sabo!"

"Whatever you say, Your Majesty."

 **-x-x-x-**

"Hey, Mamakino?"

She paused and placed the blanket over Luffy's shoulders, "What's wrong sweetie?"

"Do you think Gramps will like Ace and Sabo when I introduce them? They're both my family and I want them to like each other," he sighed, "Where is he anyways? Takin' a" Luffy yawned, "A long time to come home."

"Garp's busy, being a marine and all. He'll come back soon, don't you worry," she hummed, "And I have a good feeling that Garp will welcome both Ace and Sabo, no doubt about that."

"Hey Mamakino," Luffy snuggled into the pillow, "Gramps is a marine. I don't really like marines, corrupt and all, but today Sabo told me that the Marines serve the Celestial Dragons. And I don't like them cause they keep slaves and are terrible and slavery is bad. So if Marines are the good guys, why are they servin' them?"

"There's a thin line between good and evil," Makino began, "No man is truly righteous without having to make sacrifices. Your grandfather is a human who tries to do things that will help people. It's just that there'll always be men who want more, despite their treasures. Greedy men who are willing to sacrifice to satisfy their thirst."

"Mama? Sing me a lullaby."

"The sea watches us quietly, guiding us through our death and our birth.

From humble hometown waters, to the waves at the end of the earth."

* * *

 **XXXI.**

He glanced up as the door creaked open, the drawing laid forgotten.

"Are you coming for dinner? Everyone's waiting for you."

Law shrugged and turned back to the artwork, "You go ahead. I'm not hungry."

Marco hummed, "What's this yoi?"

The old soul stared at the thick piece of paper and the elegant lines that sloped it. A boy was positioned in the centre, his features emphasised by dark charcoal, finely crafted with surgical precision. His shoulders were bare and there was a certain intimate quality to it. He was decorated with jewels and gold, twisting around him like flower wreaths. An all-seeing gaze locked on its viewer, a collection of youth and age. It was a drawing that could only be made by a lover who knew all the lines of their beloved.

"It's a drawing," Law began not knowing where to start, "of a character in a tragedy that transcends lifetimes."

(My King. My lover, once upon a time.)

.

.

.

.

.

 _He should've known good things never lasts._

* * *

.

 **plumeria: The plumeria, also known as 'frangipani', has an abundance of meanings. From charm and grace to beauty and positivity. However, it is significant to know that this flower can also symbolise new life or beginnings as well as new creations.**

 **AN: So yep, hope you enjoyed it!**

 **To clarify things, Ace is older than canon and Rogue was alive in his younger years, there is a valid reason. And what's this? Law with the Whitebeards? Hahahaha I'm evil. Furthermore (if anyone bothers to read this), Garp's absence in many of Luffy's years made ripples, and the fact that he didn't introduce Luffy and Ace is crucial. Woooohoooo! Wait and find out!**


End file.
